Four's Turn
by peetobias
Summary: I feel myself losing a battle between her and my sanity. And she is winning. The story of Chicago told in Four's point of view; it's his turn to see the side of things.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own anything!**

I await the initiates next to the net along with Lauren and a few other Dauntless members. She keeps trying to start  
a conversation, but I, as usual, don't listen. I still can't believe why I'm doing this; volunteering to train these people.  
They're choosing to be part of the cruelest of the factions, like the Candor kids sing, and I don't want to be part of anything,  
but I promised I'd do something useful before I turn myself to the factionless.

I pace around for a while before I look up and see a small, soundless dot racing closer and closer to the net. The first jumper.

I observe as the person – the girl – collapses in the net and stays there, laughing while covering her face with her hands. I  
can see her urge to get on solid ground, and I, along with some other Dauntless, extend my hand towards her. She grabs  
hold of my hand, _my _hand, and she pulls herself across. I caught her before she had the time to fall, and I hold her arms to  
steady her.

Now that I can get a closer look at her, I notice her gray clothing. A Stiff, The first jumper. _Just like me_, I thought. I release her  
as soon as she fixes her posture, and I can hear her say "Thank you".

I smile to myself as I think of this girl, and the reasons that made her come to Dauntless form Abnegation. What made her  
change her mind about her way of life? Did she have a serial killer as a father, like I did? I can hear sounds of surprise from  
behind me.

"Can't believe it", says Lauren, smirking at the Abnegation girl, "A Stiff, the first to jump? Unheard of."

I look back at her. I don't get why this is surprising.

"There's a reason why she left them, Lauren," I tell her. I look back at the girl. "What's your name?"

"Um…" she mumbles. I observe her as she tries to make up her mind. I'd understand if she would want to change her name,  
now that she's here. Part of a new beginning.

"Think about it," I say with a small smile, "You don't get to pick again."

"Tris", she says. Original, I can get used to it.

"Tris", I hear Lauren repeat with a grin. "Make the announcement, Four."

I snap out of my daze as I look back and shout, "First jumper – Tris!"

All the Dauntless walk forward, materializing from the shadows of the cavern, and they all star to cheer, throwing their fists  
out in the air as I hear the scream of the next initiate, falling down into the net. I set my hand on Tris's back, as part of my  
charming powers, and I tell her, "Welcome to Dauntless."

As the rest of initiates throw themselves off the roof, and into the net, I take quick glances at Tris. The bravest Stiff I've seen  
ever since, well, me. As I stare at her blonde hair, falling down to her shoulders, a feeling starts to form inside me. Looks  
like I'll finally be able to make something out of my life as a Dauntless, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own anything from the Divergent Trilogy**

All of the initiates stand before me and Lauren, so decided to start moving into the place where their lives will change  
forever. We lead them down the stone path before we stop to face them. I observe the crowd of initiates before me,  
laying my eyes on Tris now and then, while Lauren speaks.

"This is where we divide. The Dauntless-born initiates come with me. I assume_ you_ don't need a tour of the place." She  
smiles as she urges all of the Dauntless-born initiates, and they break away, leaving me with nine initiates. I understand  
why these people want to change factions, but choosing Dauntless over all of them is just cruel, even if the aptitude  
test told them so.

I breathe in before I speak to the crowd. "Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your  
instructor. My name is Four."

One of the initiatates speaks up. A female transfer from Candor, "Four? Like the number?"

"Yes," I stare at her, "Is there a problem?"

"No." I had to look strong. She's a Candor; they easily tell if I'm lying or not…

"Good," I say, "We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It—"

"The Pit?" says the girl, interrupting me. Why won't anybody let me speak?

I walk up to her, looking her up and down before leaning my face in, close enough that we breathe the same air. I narrow  
my eyes and stare at her. "What is your name?"

"Christina," she says timidly.

"Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction." I am being too hard on them,  
but it doesn't matter. They chose Dauntless; they should expect all of this. "The first lesson you will learn from me,"  
I continue, "Is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?"

I see her nod before I continue my tour towards the Pit, the crowd behind me in silence. I can hear her mumble "What a jerk",  
but I just don't care. I don't care. That is, until I hear Tris speak up for me, not in the way I expected, but something is something.  
"I guess he doesn't like to be laughed at" she says.

I push the doors that lead me, us, to the Pit, and hear gasps behind me. The initiates inspect the Pit, from the stairs, to the  
paths, to the shops, to the glass ceiling, to the Dauntless members and children, before I call for them. But I do have to admit,  
even after two years of living in the Dauntless compound, I do understand why the Pit amazes them. "If you follow me," I say,  
"I'll show you the chasm." I take them to the right side of the Pit. I approach the railing as I commence to hear the water, clashing  
against the rock. I think of my secret hiding place, behind the cascade of the chasm. I wonder if I'll ever get to share it with  
someone before I leave…

I turn around to face the again. "The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" I shout. "A daredevil  
jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned."

I turn around and lead them away from the railing, from the chasm, and from my secret sanctuary, and into the dining hall. All  
the Dauntless inside cheer, applaud, shout, stomp their feet, and, well, make noise the moment we come in. I can see an empty  
table at the end of the room, and I head for it. Before I know it, I find myself sitting at Tris's side, with Christina in the other.

I start serving myself with hamburgers when I notice that the Stiff is eying the food suspiciously. I feel bad, thinking of her as a  
Stiff, but it's what she is. Or is it?

I nudge her with my elbow. "It's beef. Put this on it," I say as I pass her some ketchup. I can see Christina behind her, her eyes wide.

"You've never had a hamburger before?" she asked.

"No," Tris says, "is that what it's called?"

I look at Christina before explaining, "Stiffs eat plain food."

"Why?" she asks.

I can see Tris shrug back. "Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary."

"No wonder you left"

"Yeah," she rolls her eyes, "It was because of the food."

I meant to smile at her comment, but as I remembered _my_ own reasons for leaving, my smile came out as a twitch. I see the door  
of the cafeteria open, and I see Eric trudging in. I observe each of his steps, just in case he decides to punch someone for no  
reason. Someone like me.

"Who's that?" I hear Christina hiss.

"His name is Eric," I reply, "He's a Dauntless leader." _But only because I didn't want to,_ I think. I wonder if Dauntless would be a  
better place if I wouldn't have said no…

"Seriously? But he's so young."

I glare at her. The Candor are smart and stupid in their own way. "Age doesn't matter here." I say.

I turn my look back to Eric, and I find him turning, and walking, in our direction. I gulp down my hatred for him as he sits down next  
to me. He looks at me and adds, "Well, aren't you going to introduce me?"

"This is Tris and Christina", I say.

"Ooh, a Stiff," he smirks. I can see the holes in his mouth that come from his piercings grow wider. This is exactly why I  
chose tattoos over piercings. "We'll see how long you last."

I can see Tris, and the way she changes her mind before saying anything stupid. Stiffs are also smart and stupid in our own  
way_. Their_ _way_, I remind myself.

"What have you been doing lately, Four?" he asks me.

I tense, along with Tris. I try to breathe properly as I lift my shoulder, as part of my response, adding, "Nothing, really."

There are the times where I have to look like a strong, heartless Dauntless. Eric can smell fear and use it against you, and  
right now my back is filled with sweat and fear. Not a good sign. "Max tells me he keeps trying to meet with you, and you  
don't show up"

I look at him, my eyes stable, as I say, "Tell him I am satisfied with the position I currently hold."

"So he wants to give you a job."

"So it would seem." I reply. _Now leave before I punch your face._

"And you aren't interested."

"I haven't been interested for two years."_ Why do you even care?_

"Well," he says, "Let's hope he gets the point, then."

He claps my shoulder roughly as he gets up. I have to control my anger long enough for me not to throw myself at him and rip  
off the piercings off his face.

"Are you two friends?" asks Tris as soon as he leaves.

"We were in the same initiate class," I reply, "He transferred from Erudite."

"Were you a transfer too?"

"I thought I would only have trouble with the Candor asking too many questions," I blurt out, "Now I've got Stiffs, too?"  
Where was she going with this?

"It must be because you're so approachable," she says, "You know, like a bed of nails."

Like a bed of nails? What is she talking about? I stare at her, and she stares back. I can see heat rushing into her cheeks.

"Be careful, Tris," I say before I head to another table.


	3. Chapter 3

I eat my dinner and disappear without any comments, still thinking on my last conversation. _It must be because you're  
so approachable. You know. Like a bed of nails, _she said. Who does she think I am? I bump into Eric before I leave and  
I ask him to take the initiates down to their dormitory.

"Why do I have to do everything you say? I am not your little slave", he says.

"I have to work, man. Please."

He hesitates for a moment before sighing, "Fine. You owe me one."

He walks down the hall, muttering something about jobs and initiates. When I ask for favors like these, I usually tell the  
truth. But not today.

I trudge down a series of hallways, looking behind me in case anyone is following me, and enter through my secret  
entrance into the chasm; my little sanctuary in this world of dangers. I walk from rock to rock until I find my little safe  
spot, and I slump down, letting my legs hang loose in the dark. I close my eyes and place my hands on top of them as  
I try to sigh away my worries, but I already know it is not so easy.

I open my eyes and start thinking as I stare into nothingness. I concentrate on planning the time when I leave this compound,  
and into the group of factionless, next to my mother, but all that comes to mind is the little closet from my life as a Stiff,  
and Marcus's belt, swooping down and hitting my body. _This is for your own good._ All of the sudden, I get a pang of pain in my  
wrist, right where my demonic father would hit me. I rub the pain away, but it refuses to leave my arm, so I decide to just ignore it.

I try to think of something else, and what first comes to mind is earlier today, when I say Tris fall into the net. I remember  
her choice of confidence; taking my hand, above all the others. I notice, now, a small feeling in my stomach. It feels like butterflies.

I slap my cheek hard, preventing more loss of concentration. _I cannot think of her this way_, I think to myself_. I am her  
instructor, and nothing else. _I shake my head and head out for my room. If I get some sleep I'll probably snap out of this madness.  
I peek my head out the entrance, checking to see if the coast is clear, and walk out. I am about to turn the corner when  
I hear a voice, Max's voice, behind me.

"What are you up to, Four?"

I turn around to face him. His eyes are narrowed.

"Nothing. I'm just heading back to my place. Is something wrong?"

He inspects my face up and down before shaking his head. I start to turn around when he says, "Have you considered my  
offer?" At this, I turn back around, finding him with his arms crossed in front of him.

"Again, I am satisfied with my position. So no, but thank you."

I turn around again before Max had time for any other comments and I headed straight for my room, avoiding any source of  
human contact. I understand why he wants me to become a leader, but accepting to do so and leaving afterwards is just wrong.  
I mean, I do want to, especially to deprive Eric from his throne of malice, but I can't. Not in Dauntless. Not where the cruelest of them  
all take place.

I enter my room and shut the door behind me as I take off my shoes. I head for the bathroom and I stand before the sink, staring  
at my reflection in the mirror. Before me is someone I don't recognize; it is Four. All I want to see, at least for once, is Tobias.  
I miss the old me, but I know I can't show my true colors while staying here. One of the reasons why I have to go.

But then again, I remember the butterflies in my stomach from a while ago, and think of the possibilities of staying here. Can I find  
a life in the Dauntless compound?

I splash water in my face before my brain becomes a bowl of scrambled feelings, dry off, and head for my bed. I throw myself  
in it, staring at the ceiling, my eyes all droopy. _Can_ _I find a life in the Dauntless compound? _I think again.

I close my eyes before my mind answers the question, and start to slip away. My mind think once again of this first day of initiation,  
and I drift off with the memory of Tris's blonde hair, swooping down her shoulders, her bright smile, and the way her eyes  
gleam with light. Maybe I _can_ find a life here…


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own anything from the Divergent series****

"The first thing you will learn today," I tell the transfers as I hand each a gun, "is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is  
how to win a fight." I say, pressing a gun into Tris's hands before moving on. I have to avoid any source of concentration today,  
for the initiates' sake. "Thankfully, if you are here," I continue, "You already know how to jump off a moving train, so I don't  
need to teach you that"

Each initiate inspects the weapon in their hands, probably not realizing that they could cause much with it. "Initiation is divided  
in three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not  
weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time." I say.

From my peripheral view, I can see Tris, staring at her gun. Being afraid of it is fine, but we will all, eventually, need strength, even  
If it implies firing a gun. "We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst  
of fear," I say. "Therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical;  
the second, primarily emotional; the third, primarily mental," I finish.

I then hear a Candor initiate, Peter, speaking up. "But what…" he yawns, "What does firing a gun have to do with…bravery?"

Without thinking, I flip around the gun in my hand and press the barrel to Peter's forehead, clicking a bullet into place and stopping  
another of his yawns. To tell the truth, _I_ don't even know what firing a gun has to do with bravery, but I have to make something up.

"Wake up," I snap. "You're holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it."

I lower my gun and, as soon as I do, the tension in Peter's eyes vanishes, and all I see is hatred. Hardened hatred. He decided to shut  
his mouth before responding anything, his cheeks red.

"And to answer your question, you are far likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself."  
I turn on my heel as I reach the end of the line of initiates and walk the other way before continuing, "This is also information you may need  
in stage one. So, watch me."

I turn around to face the wall with the targets. I stand still, my feet apart, and hold my gun up with both hands. I fire with a loud  
bang that hurts my ears, but I remind myself to stay strong. I decide to ignore it as I observe the hole that my bullet created in the  
target's very center.

I move aside as the tributes start firing their own guns. I look at Tris for a second, only to find her recoiling as she fires her first bullet,  
then holding the wall behind her for balance. I shift my view from her, but it isn't so easy. I see the Erudite transfer, Will, talk to her,  
and then she fires again, hitting the edge of the target. I smile to myself before inspecting the others, creating a mental note for me  
to keep a better eye on her; the girl from Abnegation.

* * *

After lunch, I lead the group of transfers to the Training room, where the wood floors are all cracked and creaky. I can still picture  
this room, two years ago; when I fought a kid named Mark and kicked his behind without difficulty before having Eric kick mine. I can  
still see the blood, prickling down the side of my head, my bruised jaw…

I walk towards the center of the room, trying to ignore the red blood that my memories try to recall, and face the initiates as they line  
up behind me.

"As I said this morning, next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to  
threats and challenges—which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless.". _Because you will not survive if you cannot  
break someone's body for nothing…_

It breaks me to have these people fight because Eric thinks it is appropriate, but I continue without protest, "We will go over technique  
today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other. So I recommend that you pay attention. Those who don't learn fast will get hurt."

I start naming a few kicks and punches, first at the air, then at a punch bag, but I can't stop thinking about that day, especially when  
Eric gave me a concussion with those punches. I let the initiates practice as soon as I finish, and start walking around, inspecting their  
moves and their body language; the sound fabric being abused of all around me. I stop in front of Tris, and I can see her struggle to hit  
the bag without pain. I follow her body up and down, trying to figure out the parts of her body where she can add more strength  
and power. I stop myself as I realize its Tris's body I'm looking at, so I say, "You don't have much muscle, which means you're better off

using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."

I gulp, not too hard, as I press my hand on her stomach, my hand brushing both her sides for being so long. I can feel her heart pound  
quickly, but I decide not to say anything about it. I look at my hand instead of her eyes to avoid my own heart to beat so quickly.

"Never forget to keep tension here," I say quietly.

I lift my hand and continue walking; inspecting the others' moves, yet the pressure of my hand against her stomach still prevails, along with  
the fast beat of her heart.


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

As soon as all the initiates leave, I sigh heavily. I never knew that being in the same room with a person was going to leave  
me so weak. I shake my head and start to head out, my heart pounding heavily against my chest. I make my way towards the  
Pit, the thought of going to my secret place beating in my head; that is, until I look up.

Inside one of the clothing shops, I can see Tris in a knee-length black dress that shows off her arms. Then I can see Christina,  
standing next to her, shake her hair loose. I observe the locks of blonde that fall against her shoulders, my heart beating faster  
than before. I blink a few times before realizing who I'm staring at and, as I snap out of my second daze today, and I head  
for the nearest hallway at my disposal. I can't have any feelings for anyone, not right now.

Without thinking, I walk through a series of hallways and up some stairs. I open the door that waits for me, only to find the wind  
blowing around as strong and cold as ever, pushing me back as a warning. I decide to ignore it until I realize where I am. On the roof,  
by the train tracks. I blink a few times to think of what I am doing, and remember. I am going to leave and join the factionless.  
I walk forward, the door closing behind me, as I check my watch. 8:14. The train should arrive any minute now.

I pull the arms of my hoodie down enough to cover my hands. I fold my arms on front of me. _Think, I_ tell myself. _Do you really want this?_

I can see the headlights of the train now, coming towards me in a quick motion. I suddenly think of the way Tris looked about a moment  
ago, her blonde hair falling against her shoulders, the way she looked in that dress…

I start to think of the possibilities of a future in the Dauntless compound. Can I really do this? My breaths start to come out as puffs from  
my mouth. Inhale, exhale. _Think, Four, think._ Inhale, exhale. _Is this what I really want?_

I walk forward, my steps small. The train slows down as it reaches the roof. I start trotting near the edge, the handle of one of the cars  
besides me. _Think, Four! _ Before I get to touch the handle, my brain clicks into place. _Not Four_, I tell myself; _Tobias._

I pull my hand back as I slow down, the train reaching the far end of the roof. I try to control my breaths as I see the train pulling further away  
from me. I blink a few times before the nausea hits me. I hold my head in between my palms and breathe. I still can't believe what  
just happened.

I move my hands away from my face as I walk backwards, towards the door. I move rapidly down the stairs, through the hallways, and back  
into the Pit. It is less crowded now, which is better since not many will be able to see the expression that my face holds. I look for the hallway  
I take that leads me to my room when, out of the corner of my eye, I see Tris leave the tattoo place, three new tattoos marked in her  
collarbone. Three ravens.

All my mind wants to do is stare, but I drift my sight away from her and rush down the corridor, and into my apartment. I close the door  
behind me with a loud bang, and I press my body against the door, as if someone were trying to get in. My body weakens as soon as the  
adrenaline leaves me, and I slide down against the door and into a sitting position. I curl up my legs and press them against my  
chest, securing them around my body with both my arms, and dropping my head in between them. I release one quick sob before getting  
myself together.

I really have to stop thinking about Tris like this…


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - I am so sorry I coulnd write much these days; school won me over. And guys, thanks a bunch for the awesome reviews! You got me grinning :) Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter :3 The next one comes tomorrow!**  
**I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

"Since there are an odd number of you, one of you won't be fighting today", I tell the initiates.

I step away from the board in the training room where each initiate has a partner to fight with for no apparent reason. Except  
for Tris. I give her a look, looking harsh on the outside, but trying to unscramble my feelings on the inside. I can see Christina mumble  
in Tris's ear as she poked her with her elbow; I can see Tris wince in respond. No wonder why I didn't assign her to anybody.

I step aside as the first fighters, Will and Al, approach the center of the room, over the circle. They put their fists up to cover their  
faces, shuffling in circles, when Al throws his first punch, hitting Will roughly in the jaw. I can hear Eric smirk across the room, and  
I tense up. He's going to let this fight get too far. I can feel it.

Will stumbles to the side as he blocks Al's next punch, grimacing as if it hurt. Because it does hurt. Especially when a big guy like Al  
throws the punch.

I look to the side and find Peter, Drew and Molly whispering in each other's ears and glancing at Tris and Christina, then watch as  
Christina mumbles in Tris's ear before she smiles and waves at Peter, Drew and Molly. I want to smile, but I know Eric's eyes never leave  
me, so I just focus on the fight.

Will hooks his foot on Al's leg and swings it back, knocking Al off his feet. He rapidly scrambles up. They throw a few more punches at each  
other, some hitting their target, some not, when they shuffle around some more. Will blows some hair out of his eyes before both he  
and Al look at me expectantly. I feel like I should do something; they have done enough, but Eric stands a few feet away from me, checking  
his watch, and I know he wants this fight to continue. So I just stand there, with my arms folded, looking down with a pint of shame for not  
trying to do what's correct. If only Eric where somewhere else… Like, with the factionless… Or in hell…

Will and Al shuffle around in circles for a few more minutes when Eric, finally, explodes. "Do you think this is a leisure activity? Should we  
break for nap-time? Fight each other!"

I breathe out shaky breaths, soft enough for no one else to notice. I just want all this to be over.

"But," starts Al, "Is it scored or something? When does the fight end?"

"It ends when one of you is unable to continue." Eric replies.

I don't know what happened to me. Maybe it was the exaggeration of Eric's statement. Maybe it was the fact that Will and Al looked beaten  
down to shreds, like they couldn't handle any more. Maybe it was the fact that Eric's bare being was enough for me to shoot myself in the  
face. But I spoke up. And from what I know, if someone does that against Eric, that person has balls.

"According to Dauntless rules, one of you could also concede." I say.

Eric, for a second, stares at me in awe, before narrowing his eyes. I sort of kind of just crossed the line…

"According to the old _rules_," he replies. "In the_ new_ rules, no one concedes." What is his deal with watching every innocent in the place get  
hurt? I'm starting to regret not accepting Max's offer…

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of others," I say.

"A brave man never surrenders."

I stare him down. He stares me down harder. I can feel all the initiates' eyes on us. Tris's on me. I acted brave, like a true Dauntless, but  
even I know that, between both Eric and I, he was the one to respect.

"This is ridiculous!" Al says, shaking his head. "What's the point of beating him up?" I wish I could tell him that no one really knows. "We're  
in the same faction!"

"Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" asks Will with a grin. How can he act so goofy between all these conflicts? "Go on. Try to hit me,  
slowpoke," he says, bringing his hands up once again. A brave man's last stand. For today.

Al, at first surprised, goes for a few punches; missing them all. Will dodges another punch as he moves aside and kick Al's back roughly.

I bring my chin to my chest and stay there, my arms still crossed. I refuse to watch until this matter is over. But I know I have to watch. For  
everyone's sake as well as for my own. My eyes stay up.

Al, now furious, charges at Will. He grabs hold of his arm and punches him as hard as ever in the jaw. As soon as he receives the punch,  
Will's green eyes roll to the back of his head. He slips from Al's hand and crumples to the floor, motionless. This is precisely what I  
wanted to avoid. Friends beating the crap out of each other for Eric's entertainment.

Al's eyes grow wide as he crouches next to his friend, tapping his cheek with a hand. I hold my breath, along with everyone else, as I wait  
for Will to respond. He _will _respond. He _has_ to. He stays there, motionless, on the floor, for a few seconds before he opens his eyes and  
blinks, trying to control his daze.

"Get him up," I hear Eric say with a grin_. I hope you are satisfied, little piece of pansycake, _I tell myself. _I will get my revenge one of these days._

I turn to the chalkboard and circle Al's name; a circle that represents victory. Al hauls Will up and places his arm across his shoulders to  
guide him out as Eric announces the next fighters–Christina and Molly. I rapidly sprint to the door and support Will from the waist as I lead  
him out. I admit I regret leaving everyone alone with Eric, but I needed to get out of there as soon as possible before I ripped every piercing  
in Eric's face and punched and kicked him repeatedly.

The mere thought brings back the memories of Eric kicking my ass on our initiate class, but I shake my head before I lose myself over  
a flashback.

"C'mon, big guy," I say. "We're almost there."

We limp together through a few hallways and across the Pit. The eyes of every Dauntless member on us. I enter another hallway and  
turn a few corners before I reach another. The door of the hospital room stands across from us. Its light shining bright against the dark  
walls of the hallway. I secure my grip over Will's hip and I shuffle forward, half leading, half pulling him with me. I can hear his low  
chuckle as soon as I touch the door.

"I never thought this side of you existed, Four." He says. I stare back at him with a small grin as I push the door open, waving at a  
random nurse to come and inspection his wounds. The nurse, Layla, I believe, takes Will by the hip as I release him. She nods to me,  
telling me that she's got the situation under control, and takes the first of the many fallen initiates in a cart, and into one of the rooms.

I sigh heavily, wiping the sweat off my forehead, and clinging my arm to my neck.

"Now you know, my friend. Now you know…" I mumble to myself as I leave, the memory of Will getting beaten to nothing still in my head,  
along with the memory of the night before and my confront with Eric: the two bravest moments I've ever shared in this compound.


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

I stay next to Will on the hospital room for as much as I can, the fights between initiates should be over by now. I wanted to  
go back, but the adrenaline is already out of my system, and so is the pint of bravery that was once there. Will is lying down in his  
assigned bed, eyes closed, with his bruised jaw and swelled eye. I wince to myself as I recall how he got these bruises, making a  
mental note not to bother Al whenever he's angry.

I hear someone call me from behind, and turn around to see the nurse who attended Will, Layla, telling me that I should be leaving.  
I nod in response and wait for her to leave when I turn around to face Will, still asleep, muttering something about Christina as he smiled  
slightly. At this, I chuckle to myself. _Looks like someone's got a crush,_ I think. I stand up, slightly patting his shoulder, and I leave.

I put my hands down in my pockets as I walk down the hallway, kicking rocks here and there. I turn down a few more hallways,  
not really knowing where I'm headed, when I see a set of stairs as I turn the next corner. That's when I suddenly get a flashback.

I can feel the wind again, blowing through my hoodie. I can see the train, rapidly approaching. I can feel my feet running as it reaches the  
roof. I can sense the handle to my left; the awareness I had inverted in my decision, followed by the thought of Tris in that black dress and  
my change of mind. I wonder where I would be if I actually had gone to live off with the factionless. I mean, not that I've changed my mind,  
I still want to leave this faction, but I keep wondering if there's more for me to achieve in here.

I turn another corner and approach to a set of double doors. I open them and enter the Pit, where the sound of Al's wailing awaits  
me. "Come on, Christina." He says.

I look around the Pit and spot the group of transfers crowded around by the railing. Eric is by the side, looking bored, while everyone else  
stares in awe and shock. I can see Eric look around the pit with his eyes narrowed, as if he heard something unusual and I, with the  
random acts of bravery life gives me, duck behind the set of double doors I just came from. I wait a few seconds before slightly opening  
them again, enough for me to peek at the railing zone. From between the group of initiates, I can see Christina, hanging from the bars of  
the railing. Eric's doing, I suppose.

I observe as a wave of water splashes against her back and hold my breath as I see her hands slip. I cannot see her anymore. I close  
my eyes and breathe in slowly. This cannot be happening.

I open my eyes again, my breath still held, and I see everyone still crowded around the railing. No one is crying, no one is gasping. Everyone  
is in the same position. I can see a faint, dark, moving dot against the bars of the barrier. She is still alive. She can still make it.

I release my breath and watch as Al observes his watch. "Five minutes are up," he spits to Eric.

Eric tilts his wrist and checks his own watch, taking all the time in the world, while Christina is probably ready to faint as she hangs  
on for dear life. "Fine," he finally says, "You can come up, Christina."

At this, Al starts walking towards the railing, but Eric stops his track. "No," he says, "She has to do it on her own."

"No, she doesn't," Al growls back. That kid has more balls than I do. "She did what you said. She's not a coward. She did what you said."

_Oh no, _I think. _Here it comes…_

Al walks forward and grabs Christina's wrist over the railing. I can see Christina take hold of his forearm as he starts hauling her up. Tris  
shuffles forward and grabs her from under her shoulder once she's high enough and, with Al's strength on her side, hauls Christina up and  
into the floor of the Pit. I can faintly see the smears of blood splattered on her face, probably from her fight, which I am sure has to do with  
all this. Al and Tris kneel next to her as I close the door and press my back against it. I catch my breath, and I can sense Tris and Al doing  
so as well.

Something inside me clicked; all the fury inside me is being brought out. I close my eyes and, when again the open, all I can picture is Eric  
hanging by the chasm himself. A smile creeps across my face. I still don't think that the rest of my life can be found here somewhere,  
but I will stay. I will stay and watch Eric pay.


	8. Chapter 8

**I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

I wake up earlier today and get dressed to go to the Training Room; another disadvantage for having volunteered for this.  
Waking up early.

I shuffle down a couple of hallways, the memory of Christina's hands slipping off the railing still taunting me, before I reach my destination.  
I open the doors, hoping for some peace and quiet along with some knife-throwing before the initiates arrived, but no. I open the doors  
to find Eric, impatiently waiting for me.

"Finally," he says once he catches my eye. "What took you so long in getting here?"

I take a look at my watch; It's 7:30. Half hour before the initates get here. I stare at him as I wonder how boring enough his life has to be  
for him to come here early every day.

"It's barely seven thirty in the morning. The transfers don't get here until eight."

"I don't care." He replies. "We need to write up the opponents on the board."

I shrug, since I still don't understand his reasoning, and I approach him with cool steps, trying not to let my fear show. He looks at me  
suspiciously as soon as I reach his side, and I tense up. I sometimes wonder why I am afraid of a seventeen year-old, until I remember:  
I am Divergent, and he mustn't find out. I may be older, but he has more authority, and he can kick my buttox easily. He can use all of my fears against me if he ever finds out…

"Where were you yesterday? After that kid, Al, beat up the other one?"

I gulp. He mustn't know I saw all he did to Christina. "You start to sound like a worries girlfriend, Eric," I say, looking at him straight in the eye.  
He stares back. "Who cares?" I shrug.

"I care. You left me with those puny initiates. Like I was the one who volunteered for this."

"It's not such a big a deal. You just have to look at them without caring for anything. Geez."

I he stares at me again, harder than ever. "Watch it, Four." He says.

I put my hands up in surrender, and he turns around to erase the names from yesterday. He hands me the chalk as I start to put my hands  
down, and says, "Okay. Put this kid, Molly, against Edward in the first slots."

I turn to face the board and I write Molly's name next to Edward's. I drop my hand next to my side and observe Eric, now staring down the  
second slot, as he thinks of the next opponents. A wicked smile suddenly fills his face, his eyes bright, as he tells me his next great idea.

"Peter versus the Stiff." He says.

I stare at him in disbelief as soon as he says the word "Stiff". Is he crazy? Does he want Tris beaten down to a pulp? "Are you out of  
your mind?" I say. He stares at me once again. I should've just kept my mouth closed.

"I said, Peter. Versus. The Stiff."

I cannot make him think I have a soft spot for her. I cannot make myself think that, either. So I just roll my eyes and write her name next to  
Peter's. I sigh as I wait for him to tell me the last names.

"And, uhh, put Al against Drew, and then Will against Christina." He says. "The girl, Edward's girlfriend, won't fight today."

I turn to the board and write: Al versus Drew. Underneath them, Cristina versus Will, and I add Myra's name in the last slot, leaving the space  
after her name empty. I drop my hands and watch Eric's smile of triumph before I turn around and pace across the room in boredom.

I glance at my watch and, as soon as I read the time, I hear voices coming down the hallway outside the doors. It's already eight. The  
initates are coming.

I move myself next to the door and press my body against the wall as Edward and Myra enter the room. I watch them move forward, holding  
hands, as they approach the board. Myra looks at her name and at the empty space that follows it before releasing a sigh of relief. Edward  
smirks as Molly's name next to his and put an arm around Myra's shoulders, guiding her to sit on the floor next to him. I smile to myself as slightly  
as possible as I observe their romantic acts. If only I could find someone like that…

A few minutes pass before Peter, Drew, and Molly come in, rambling something about Tris and her sheets. They've been pranking her, I think.  
I watch them as they stop on front of the board. Drew and Molly glance at each other warily after looking at their opponents, but then snicker  
along with Peter after seeing his opponent. I'm really starting to feel sorry for this girl.

I press my hand to my forehead and sag it down the side of my face for no reason before I hear more voices from the hallway.

"One of you had to get knocked out, you know," says a female voice. Tris. "If it hadn't been im, it would have been you."

"Still, I don't want to do it again," says another voice. Al. I hear him sniff. "I really don't.

"But you have to," I hear Tris say as the door opens. She walks in next to Al and her eyes immediately go to the chalk board. She stops in  
her tracks as she reads Peter's name, next to hers. Not even two seconds passed before Christina came in behind them, her face still bruised  
from yesterday, and she crumples her muffin wrapper as she says, "Oh no. Are they serious? They're really going to make you fight _him_?"

"Maybe you can just take a few hits and pretend to go unconscious. No one would blame you." Al says. I actually recognize this as a good  
idea, based on the fact that Tris could never survive more than just a few hits.

"Yeah," she says. "Maybe."

They stand at the side of a room as the first fight, Edward and Myra's begins, no one has noticed me yet. I can feel Eric's eyes shifting over  
to me from time to time, so I decide to look at the fighting, and the fighting only; but I can't help myself. From my peripheral view, I see Tris,  
looking at Peter, probably looking for a weakness like I suggested yesterday. I doubt she'll find one.

Edward beats Myra easily, and I shuffle forward to circle his name on the board, still unnoticed by Tris. I'm not even sure why I want her to  
notice me.

I position myself next to the door once again, just in case I can't bear to watch. I can feel Eric behind me, moving to the door and positioning  
himself next to me, but I decide to ignore him. I observe as Peter and her approach the center of the room. I fold my arms in front of me  
and pucker my lips as he smiles at her, mockingly.

"You okay there, Stiff?" He says. "You look like you're about to cry. I might go easy on you if you cry."

She looks at me from over his shoulder before shifting her eyes to Eric, who is now tapping his foot. I can sense his hunger for violence. I see  
Peter suddenly move his hands up to his face, bending his knees as if he were to sprint. "Come one, Stiff. Just one little tear. Maybe  
some begging."

Tris throws the first kick, up to Peter's side, but he caught her foot and yanked her forward, making her fall on her back. She quickly pulls her  
foot free and gets back up. _Come one, Tris_, I think.

"Stop playing with her," Eric snaps, "I don't have all day."

As soon as he says this, Peter punches Tris in the jaw with a quick motion. She stumbles backward and starts edging back, but Peter  
kicks her hard in the stomach, and she falls. Tris tries to lift herself up, but Peter already awaits her. He takes hold of her hair with a hand  
and punches her nose with the other. I can see blood coming out of her nose now. I close my eyes for a brief moment and breathe in  
a long breath. _Come on, Tris_.

She slaps his arm as hard as she can, but Peter is already punching her again in the ribs. He shoves her again, and she falls to the floor.  
Tris tries to drag herself up, but Peter kicks her side. I don't think I'll be able to watch this.

She punches his leg, but Peter barely groans before smacking her ear, laughing at her foolish attempts to survive this fight.

I was right; I cannot watch this. I open the door without and leave the room, remembering Eric and his anger because of me bailing on him  
yesterday, but I don't care this time. I don't care. I trudge down some hallways until I reach the Pit, and I head straight for the railing. Eyes  
glance over to my direction as I put both of my hands on the bars and lower my head. I breathe in, and out. In and out. I am mad at myself  
for not trying to help her, but I knew Eric wasn't going to allow that.

If only I would have one of those brave moments again…


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

I return to the Training Room by the time Tris's fight with Peter was over. I enter the room as casually as possible, only to find Al  
and Drew fighting each other, and Peter's name surrounded by a circle on the chalk board. Tris was nowhere to be seen. I receive an  
ugly look from Eric as soon as I reach his side.

"Where did you go? I thought you were going to leave me alone with all these worthless idiots again." He says, not caring about who  
sees him.

"I went to get some water," I lied. "The fight was starting to bore me."

He looks away from the fight to eye me suspiciously. I stare back at him with the most obvious look of boredom I could give until he shrugged,  
his sight returning to the fight, where Al's ass was getting kicked by Drew. I yawn a fake yawn and checked my watch. Hey, if I want  
to look bored, I better do a good job at it.

I look around again and spot Peter in a room's corner along with Molly, both watching his friend fight. I can see that Peter looks, in fact,  
unharmed and bored.

"What happened to the Stiff?" I ask.

"Peter kicked her good." Eric replied without looking. "You missed it. Edward's girlfriend offered to take her to the hospital." I nod in  
response. _Thank god I missed it_, I thought.

I observe as Al gets punched hard in the jaw. He stumbles and falls, but he does not get up again. Drew observes his body, his hands still  
up in defense, but gets bored after a couple of minutes since Al has not yet recovered. Besides me, Eric frowns. He waits for a couple more  
minutes, checking his watch now and then, when, with a roll of the eyed, he finally says, "Well, that was boring. Someone get him up."

Christina and Will walk forward and help Al get back in his feet. He still looks dazed, but I can tell he's faking it. Besides me, Eric grabs the  
chalk and circles Drew's name, shaking his head as he drops his hand down.

He turns around and, with his middle and index fingers, points at Will and Christina. "You two," he says, "You're up."

At this, Will and Christina release Al and walk forward, to the room's center. They both immediately bring their hands up in defense as soon  
as Eric starts paying attention, and they begin to fight. Will throws the first punch; or it would've been a punch if Christina had not blocked it.  
A wicked grin is now spread all over her face.

"C'mon, Will," she mocked, "you can do better than that."

"Don't ask for too much, sweetheart," Will replied, now grinning to himself as well. How can they take this madness as a joke? Especially  
now that two of their friends are all beaten up, and of them is unconscious at the hospital. Christina throws in a kick, but Will quickly grabbed  
her leg by the ankle, yanking her forward and making her fall roughly on her side. That trick may be common, but it's effective.

She quickly got up to her feet, but Will already expected her. He pulled his hand back and punched her in the nose, which is now bleeding.  
Will goes for another punch, but Christina grabs his wrist and thrusts her hand downward, trying to bend his forearm like a ninja breaking a  
block of wood. Will screams at his clenched teeth, trying to hide his wailing, but his shouting is still loud enough to fill the entire Dauntless  
compound. Christina shoves him back, and he falls on his butt, giving her time to wipe the blood from her nose. She stands up along with Will,  
and they both bring their hands upward as they start circling each other, the grins they had already gone.

Besides me, Eric checks his watch. Apparently, all the fights that do not involve Peter or Edward interest him. My attention returns to the fight,  
where Christina seems to be kicking Will's butt. She sprinted forward, knocking Will off his feet, and she pins him down to the floor. She  
goes for a punch in the jaw, but Will moves his head out of the way. Christina's fist hits the floor, but when she tries to pull it back, Will grabs  
her wrist and he punches her again in the nose.

Christina begins to wail; apparently Will's punches are more powerful than they look. He takes his opportunity and pushes Christina away  
from him, and he pins _her_ down to the floor, his knees firm on her shoulders. She looks up at will, her eyes filled with terror, but it's too late now.  
Will curled up his hand into a fist and punched her in the jaw. I can see the light leave her eyes after it happened, and as Will removed himself  
from her body, she did not move. She was breathing, but she did not move.

I turn around and grab the piece of chalk, circling Will's name. The fighting is finally over. _For today_, I tell myself.

I dismiss the initiates and consider visiting Tris at the hospital, but I already know that Al, Will, and Christina are heading over there. I decide  
to ignore my urges, and I start heading out for my room, but Eric's voice stops me.

"You leave tomorrow at eight fifteen in the morning," he says. "Take the initiates down to the fence." I nod back as I turn around and head  
for the door, the blood and the weakness that Tris gave away today still haunting me. I make a mental note to myself. I need prove her  
strong. I need to prove her Dauntless.

**A/N - So I hope you guys liked this chapter! I decided to go for something you haven't seen :) You can start expecting the ferris wheel scene soon, by the way, in the 11th chapter, probably the next ;) Again, thanks for the reviews3**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N - I'm so soryr it took me so long to write this chapter. Too much work. ANyway, hope you like it :)**  
**I do not own anything from the Divergent Trilogy****

I wait as patiently as possible at the roof for the crowd of initiates. I yawn once or twice, since I haven't gotten used to waking  
up so early. I look around me, not sure of what to do, so I place a hand on my hip and brush my other hand through my hair. I check  
my watch once. Then again for a second time. It's 8:10. They should be getting here about now.

I exhale a long breath and approach the roof's edge before I hear voices behind me. I glance back to see everyone rushing out of the stairs  
and into the roof. Everyone but Tris and Christina.

I return my view to the train tracks as I can, very faintly, hear to the train horns. I check my watch again, the initiates rambling on behind  
me. It's 8:14. I sigh as I step forward a little more, enough so that if I move even the slightest bit, the train will take me with it. I hear snickers  
behind me.

"Y'know, Four," says Peter from behind me with a grin, "If the train chops you off, it's not our fault."

I glance back and stare into his eyes. I stare him like I've never stared anyone before, and I watch as his wicked grin slowly disappeared.  
I wonder if he's thinking of me, holding him at gun point; the thought of shooting him makes me want to smile. I turn back and I hear the doors  
open behind me, probably Tris and Christina, as the train reaches the roof, its horns blaring in my ears, not letting me listen to any conversation behind me.

I simply step aside to let the others in; hopefully Peter, Molly, and Drew will get in first and be led out of Dauntless…

Everyone starts loading themselves in a train car, some jogging, like Tris, other hauling themselves up, like Will, while I simply just took the  
car's handle and pulled myself in without difficulty. I got some strange looks after I did, but I just don't care. I stand in the doorway and cross  
my arms as I enjoy the sweet breeze of the wind and the sun's warmth; the things I do not obtain because of my election of faction.

"Feeling okay there?" I hear Peter say behind me, "Or are you a little… _Stiff_?"

He burst out in laughter as if his joke was even funny. Molly and Drew kick in with him, laughing their asses off with their idiotic laughers.

"We are all awed by your incredible wit," says Will._ By his incredible for of expressing his stupidity, you mean_, I think.

"Yeah, are you sure you don't belong with the Erudite, Peter?" adds Christina. "I hear they don't object to sissies."

I roll my eyes. Why can't people just enjoy the sun and the cool morning breeze in silence? It's not like I'm asking for much. "Am I going to  
have to listen to your bickering all the way to the fence?" I say.

Everyone stays quiet behind me as I hold the handles on either side of the car. I lean in on the outside, my feet still planted on the train, and  
I close my eyes, blocking every source of conversation behind me. I feel the wind for real this time, but differently. It feels more like my mother, embracing me in her sweet, warm hugs in my little world of suffering at my old faction. I suddenly feel safer; finally free.

I stay in the same position the entire ride, my arms get sore, but I don't mind. The breeze makes me feel better every time the pain brings me  
back to reality. I hear the wheels of the train squeal, and I open my eyes. The car lurches forward along with the crowd behind me, and I  
hold the handle closest to me for balance before jumping out of the car. I sigh at the sight of the fence, and wonder what's outside it; why  
do they have to keep us locked inside reality. I remember the day I learned about this, when I overheard my father's conversation with  
that guy, Andrew. Suddenly, all the memories start rushing back to my brain. The nights I spent inside the closed, the pang of pain in my wrist  
every time I got whipped by the Devil…

I pinch myself back to reality before I lost myself, blinked once or twice, and call for the rest of the crowd to follow me.

I shuffle forward, looking strong for them, but standing weak inside at the memory of my father. I gulp and close my eyes briefly, allowing myself  
three breaths of regret. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

"If you don't rank in the top five at the end of initiation, you will probably end up here," I say as I reach the gate. "Once you are a fence guard,  
there is some potential for advancement, but not much. You may be able to go on patrols beyond Amity's farms, but—"

"Patrols for what purpose?" Interrupts Will.

I lift a shoulder. I really don't know that answer, I suppose you'll discover that if you find yourself among them. As I was saying, for the  
most part, those who guard the fence when they are young continue to guard the fence. If it comforts you, some of them insist it isn't as bad  
as it seems.

"What rank were you?" Peter asks me.

I look at him, surprised he still hasn't tried to cut my intestines for shutting him off earlier. I guess I get that kind of respect for being his trainer.

"I was first," I say.

"And you chose to do _this_?" Peter's eyes grow wide in amazement. "Why didn't you get a government job?"

_Because I'd have to see my father, you scumbag._ "I didn't want one."

I move along to talk to the Dauntless woman at the fence while an Amity truck came out of the blue. I talk to the woman, but I don't pay  
attention to what I'm saying. Inside the truck, someone calls out Tris's name. From my peripheral view, I can see someone approaching her.  
I remind myself I have to focus on my deal. But then again, I am a curious person. I can't help my nature.

"You could go home, you know. I'm sure Abnegation would make an exception for you." The guy says. I tense up. _She cannot go back_, I try to  
tell him telepathically. _It's too late._

"What makes you think I want to go home?" She replies. "You think I can't handle this or something?"

"Hey. Hey Four," snaps the woman I was supposed to be talking to. "Are you listening to me?"

I blink at her for a while, unsure of what to do, and I nod. "Yeah."

I gulp down the fear of Tris leaving the Dauntless as I finish my conversation. I glance at my watch; it's almost time to go. I turn around and  
find the Robert kid gone. I sigh and move forward and, when I'm only a few feet away from Tris, I say, "I am worried that you have a knack for  
making unwise decisions." Again, I can't help my nature.

She frowns and crosses her arms. "It was a two-minute conversation."

"I don't think the smaller the time frame makes it any less unwise." I hesitate for a small while after furrowing my eyebrows and I move forward, touching the corner of her bruise with my fingertips. She jerks her head back, but my hand stays glued to her face, I look down and sigh.  
How am I supposed to make her stronger?

"You know," I start when the idea comes to me. "if you could just learn to attack first, you might do better."

"Attack first? How will that help?" she asks.

"You're fast. If you can get a few good hits in before they know what's going on, you could win." I look at her before shrugging and letting  
my hand drop. I think I touched her for too long, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"I'm surprised you know that," she says quietly, "since you left halfway through my one and only fight."

_I couldn't handle it_, I try to tell her. I think of my selection of words, not trying to sound too insecure, and I say, "It wasn't something I wanted  
to watch." Stupid. I should've just kept my mouth shut. I hear a distant horn. The train coming to my salvation. I clear my throat before this get  
any weirder.

"Looks like the next train is here. Time to go, Tris."

**A/N - Excuse the lame chapter, but feel free to review it :) I won't post the next one tomorrow, but the day after that. So await the Ferris Wheel scene, guys. Its coming \o/**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N - Here it goes! Made it extra long; I hope you like it :)**  
**I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

I close the door behind me once I reach my room, taking my shoes off. I sigh and bang my head once against the door as I think  
of that last conversation. _It wasn't something I wanted to watch… _What the hell is wrong with me? I grab my shirt under its hem  
and I start bringing it up my body when I hear a knock behind me; a knock that won't stop bothering. Eric.

"What do you want?" I shout at him.

"Don't fall asleep and leave me off again with those stupid initiates of yours. It's capture the flag time." I groan in response.  
Capture the flag time, meaning I have to lose so Eric won't beat the shit out of me. I sigh and close my eyes, rubbing my forehead  
with my and then sagging it down the right side of my face.

"Fine," I respond. "I'll be right out."

I position my shirt back and grab a hoodie, placing it around me, and I grab my watch, placing it around my wrist. I inhale once,  
and let it out long after my lungs are filled with air. I turn back and open the door, only to encounter a pissed off Eric, holding two flashlights. He hands me one as he checks his watch. Looks like he wants his victory to approach faster.

"Lauren is waking up the Dauntless-born. Let's go." He says, already trotting down the hallway.

I roll my eyes and follow, as if I ever had another choice. But I do. I can leave off to the factionless right now if I desire,  
but I feel a new hope building up inside me. I can't go, not yet. I follow Eric through the Pit and down another series of hallways, inviting people in to awake the initiates, as if it were their favorite source of entertainment. We reach the outside of the transfers' dormitory, and Eric holds the handle and pushes the door open, letting everyone trudge in without invitation. How polite.

"Everyone up!" Eric roars. Around me, everyone rubs their eyes or blinks in confusion, trying to process what is going on,  
and they stand up. I can feel Tris's eyes on me, and I don't know why, but my heart starts to speed up. I really have to stop  
this madness. Her eyes shift to Eric's, and he stares back.

"Did you go deaf, Stiff?" he says. After that, she snaps and comes back to life, getting out of her bed. Besides her, Christina  
stands up in with only a T-shirt, her legs bare underneath her, and I get uncomfortable. She is bold, though, as she stares Eric  
down, her arms crossed, her eyes fierce. If Eric would ever see me in a T-shirt and no pants, I would cower down and never leave  
my bed. _What am I thinking? Stop being a sissy!_ I tell myself. I blink and shake my head, snapping back to the present.

"You have five minutes to get dressed and meet us by the tracks," says my best friend, Eric. "We're going on another field trip"

He turns around and leaves, all the Dauntless, and me, on his heels. Eric shoos them off at the Pit, since they have nothing to  
do with this game of ours. They shout and complain, but Eric stares at them boldly and they leave, still complaining because of  
this unfairness. _And they think this is the only thing that's unfair_, I think. I follow Eric up to the tracks, where the ammunitions are already set and ready to go. He moves over and grabs a gun, loading it with paintballs, and trudges down to the center of the  
roof. He looks at me expectantly. I look back. "Well?" he says.

I move forward with a sigh and repeat his actions, joining him at the roof's center just when the initiates, both Dauntless-born  
and transfers, come in, some rubbing their eyes, some carrying expressions of confusion on their faces. Next to the pile of guns,  
Tris laughs as she reads the boxes with the word "PAINTBAllS" written on it, probably finding the of shooting each other  
with guns with the goal of capturing a flag absurd.

"Everyone grab a gun!" shouts Eric. All at once, the initiates rush towards the pile of guns and they each take one before takin  
g a box and loading their stupid, yet powerful weapons. I look up at the sky, expecting to see something I haven't seen in a long  
time; stars. Only the moon is on view tonight, probably feeling lonely for being the only peaceful thing in this world of madness and insecurity.

"Time estimate?" Eric asks. I snap out of my gaze, realizing he's asking this to me. To this day, I still don't know why I act  
like his slave, obeying every command of his. Until I remember, he's more powerful than I am. He has more control. I look down  
to check my watch. It's 10:14. "Any minute now," I respond. "How long is it going to take you to memorize the train schedule?"

"Why should I, when I have you to remind me of it?" He replies, roughly shoving my shoulder. I got the urge of slapping his face  
out of his body, piercings and all, but I'd probably end up in a worse situation than this, so I try to control myself. A circle of light  
shines on my right, growing larger as I observe everyone getting ready. Tris's eyes are set on my cheekbones, but I try to ignore it, thinking once again of the moon, and wondering if I'd ever get to join it only to get out of this place. I watch everyone as they  
watch me, as If I were their guide, so I decide to act first. I turn around and run for the train, getting in as easily as ever. I turn  
around to meet Tris, jogging by the train's side, and I reach out my arm for her. She grabs my arm, and I haul her in, aware  
that she is feeling the pressure in my muscles. She quickly lets go of me and, without glancing once towards my direction, she moves  
to the other side of the car and sits down. I intended to look back, but instead I help the rest of the crowd get in, biting my  
lips as I do so.

Once everyone is set, I speak up. "We'll be dividing into two teams to play capture the flag. Each team will have an even mix of members, Dauntless-born initiates, and transfers. One team will get off first and find a place to hide their flag. Then the second  
team will get off and do the same." The car moves, trying to make me lose balance, and I grab the doorway beside me for support. "This is a Dauntless tradition, so I suggest you take it seriously."

"What do we get if we win?" Someone shouts at me. _Dirty looks of hatred_, I think. I remind myself that Eric and I are on the  
same train car, so I speak as Dauntless as I can. "Sounds like a question someone not from Dauntless would ask. You get to  
win, of course."

"Four and I will your team captains," says Eric before looking at me, his eyes wide with anticipation. "Let's divide up transfers  
first, shall we?"

"You go first," I say. I hate choosing first. Eric shrugs in reply.

"Edward." He says, as I suspected, since Edward was his favorite initiate.

I lean against the frame and nod, thinking of who to choose, though I already know the answer to that. I inspect the crowd  
before me in a brief motion before I mention the name of who I think, who I _know_, will be the key to all of this. I chose the  
person I know I can trust the most out of all these people. "I want the Stiff." A burst of laughter rises up from the back of the car  
as Tris starts to blush. It feels weird, picking her over all the talent in here, but I know she has to prove herself to the rest.

"Got something to prove?" says Eric with his usual smirk. "Or are you just picking the weak ones so that if you lose, you'll  
have someone to blame it on?"

I shrug, thinking of how foolish he's going to look after I finally win. "Something like that." I lie.

I wait for some of the laughter to calm down before I speak again, proud of my strategy. "Your turn."

"Peter." He says.

"Christina."

"Molly."

"Will." I bite my lip, thinking of whom else I can depend of.

"Al."

"Drew."

"Last one left is Myra," says Eric. "So she's with me. Dauntless-born initiates next."

The others stop paying attention as soon as we start picking the Dauntless-born. Since I really don't know them well, I chose  
those whoI believe are faster, stronger. In between those people stand Uriah and Marlene. After every initiates is part of a team,  
Eric smirks at me. If I was him, I would keep my mouth shut if I knew what I was going for.

"Your team can get off second." He says.

"Don't do me any favors," I say with a small smile. "You know I don't need them to win." Which is true. I don't _need_ them to  
win, but I need them to prove themselves that they are capable of more than being a bunch of ruthless Dauntless.

"No, I know that you'll lose no matter when you get off," Eric says, biting one of the piercings on his lip. To this day, I still wonder  
how doing that doesn't hurt him. "Take your scrawny team and get off first, then."

My team gets up and we all start jumping off the train as soon as it reaches ground level. We are all safe on the ground when  
someone touches my shoulder. "When your team won, where did you put the flag?"

"Telling you wouldn't really be in the spirit of the exercise, Marlene." I reply.

"Come on, Four." She whines with a flirt. I close my eyes briefly and brush off her hand off my shoulder. For a second, I catch  
Tris's eyes, and she seemed to be grinning.

"Navy Pier," says someone. "My brother was on the winning team. They kept the flag at the carousel." Uriah.

"Let's go then," says Will. I don't complain, and neither does everyone else, so we all walk off east, towards the marsh, and into  
the zone from two years ago, where Eric held the enemy's team up proudly, as if he did all the work. I block out all the  
conversation behind me once again and I focus on the moon, shining bright against the darkness of the sky. It reminds me of  
two years ago, when the moon was still there, but it was not lonely. Stars used to fill up the sky, making the moon look as bright  
as ever. It used to be beautiful, just like the Dauntless compound. There wasn't as much as violence and unfairness as there  
is now. It all changed because of Eric, though. That I know. If only I would've accepted Dauntless leadership before him. Would  
the compound be a better place?

We walk across the bridge, the mud before it slightly reflecting the moon. We finish crossing the bridge, and we enter the  
part of the city that is formed by crumbling buildings, broken glass, and lost dreams. Just like a nightmare.

Behind me, Marlene takes out a flashlight. "Scared of the dark, Mar?" Asks Uriah, mockingly.

"If you want to step on broken glass, Uriah, be my guest," She says roughly, turning off the flashlight. I can't help but to smile at myself.

We keep on walking, reaching the Ferris wheel. I can feel Christina, Will, and Tris talking behind me, but my mind is still  
thinking on the strategy. I hope these people are smart enough to know what to plan of, but I trust them; that's why I chose  
them.

We reach the carousel sooner than I expected, and I bring out our flag from my pocket. "In ten minutes," I start. "The other team  
will pick their location. I suggest you take this time to formulate a strategy. We may not be Erudite, but mental preparedness  
is one aspect of your Dauntless training. Arguably, it is the most important aspect." True.

Will snatches the flag from my hands. "Some people should stay here and guard, and some people should go out and scout the  
other team's location," he says.

"Yeah? You think?" says Marlene, taking the flag. "Who put you in charge, transfer?"

"No one," replies Will. "But someone's got to do it."

"Maybe we should develop a more defensive strategy." says Christina. "Wait for them to come to us, and take them out."

"That's the sissy way out. I vote we all go out. Hide the flag well enough that they can't find it." suggests Uriah.

That's when the chaos floods in. Everyone starts shouting ideas at one another, arguing about who's right and who's wrong, reminding me of my own game from two years ago. I sigh and sit on the edge of the carousel, leaning in against one of the  
horses, resting my arm against my neck. My eyes lift again to the moon, which is now covered by misty clouds. It seems like the  
sky is my only friend again. I breathe in a couple of times to tranquilize myself as I cover my eyes with my hands. All this arguing is making me dizzy.

In between my fingers, my eye catches movement. I drop my hands and focus in the darkness to see Tris, walking towards the  
Ferris wheel with silent footsteps. What is she doing? I stand up, looking at the arguing initiates to see if someone is actually  
noticing what is going on, and I follow her silently, placing my gun across my back.

I am three feet away as she looks up at the Ferris wheel, finding the rungs of the ladder. She grabs one of the rungs and places  
her feet on the lowest rung, jumping a little to test its weight. She isn't going to…

"Tris," I say silently. She looks over her shoulder, looking at me before saying, "Yes?"

"I came to find out what you think you're doing."

"I'm seeking higher ground," she says simply. "I don't _think_ I'm doing anything."

I smile to myself. I knew she'd be worth the picking. "Alright. I'm coming."

She hesitates for a second, inspecting my expression. "I'll be fine."

"Undoubtedly." I reply sarcastically. She looks away and starts climbing and, once she's a few feet off the ground, I come  
after her. My throat starts tightening as I think of how high she's planning to climb, but I make myself climb, as if nothing else  
mattered; as if my life depended on it. Which makes it easier, because my life does depend on it.

"So tell me," I say breathlessly. "What do you think the purpose of this exercise is? The game, I mean, not the climbing."

She looks down at the pavement as we climb, then again up at the platform above her, in the wheel's center. "Learning about  
strategy. Teamwork maybe."

"Teamwork." I repeat. As if that were even possible in this compound. I try to laugh, but it comes out as a panicked pitch.  
I'm thinking about height again. _Be brave, Tobias,_ I tell myself.

"Maybe not," she thinks again. "Teamwork doesn't seem to be a Dauntless priority."

Her words make me think of the older times, when teamwork was the most important priority. Anything but height; anything  
but height. The wind presses strong against my side, and I can sense it's bothering Tris too as she presses her body closer  
against the rungs, then looking down at the carousel. I try to make myself look down and check at my team, but I don't. I hate to  
admit it, but I'm too scared to look down. I shouldn't have come here, but it's a little too late to back down.

"It's supposed to be a priority. It used to be."

I can sense her tensing, but she only climbs higher. I can't do it; I can't; I can't. But I go on. I have to look strong for her. I have  
to. I try to gulp down my fear as I move on, but I guess it never really leaves me.

"Now tell me…" I say trough a burst of breath. "what do you think learning strategy has to do with… bravery?" My breath is starting  
to lose its focus. I am hyperventilating more than breathing. My nature; it cannot be prevented. I look down in a quick motion,  
and the floor seems to be miles away from my feet. My breathing becomes heavy.

"It… it prepares you to act," she finally says. "You can learn to use it." She seems to notice my loud breaths, and she asks, "Are  
you alright, Four?"

"Are you _human_, Tris? Being up this high…" I gulp for air, my heart beat now faster than ever. "It doesn't scare you at all?"

She looks over her shoulder to the ground without seeming to feel any fear. How can she manage not to fall in fear? As soon  
as I think that, a wave of wind hit her from aside, and her body started to shift to the right, her balance shifting as she gasps. Instinctively, I bring out my hand and I hold her hip, squeezing as one of my fingers touching her bare skin under the hem of her  
T-shirt. I pretend I feel normal, but I'm not. My heart warns to leave my chest from its rough beating, and I am left breathless.  
_Breathe, Tobias_, I tell myself. _Breathe._ I look up to find Tris still in her place, as breathless as I am, looking at her hands.

"You okay?" I manage.

"Yes." She replies tensely before she keeps climbing.

I blink a few times as I gulp for air, but I force myself to move on. I know I can't be fearless, but I have to at least try to conquer  
my fears. She reaches the platform above me and she sits and scoots down to give me space. Instead, I crouch down and  
press my back against the metal support, my breaths still heavy.

"You're afraid of height," she realizes. "How do you survive in the Dauntless compound?"

I was meant to say that I didn't know, but instead what came out was, "I ignore my fear. When I make decisions, I pretend it  
doesn't exist." But I do recognize it exists. I always do; but the other part is true: I ignore it.

I can feel her eyes on me, but her stare remains fit. "What?" I ask silently. "Nothing," she replies.

She looks away and inspects the city, which is pitch-black. My throat tightens as she pronounces the words I feared she had to  
say. "We're not high enough." She looks up and stares at the mess of white bars above her before she stands up and adds,  
"I'm going to climb."

I know I can't do this, I cannot; but I have to look brave for her. For as much as I hate to say this, it's time to act like a Dauntless.  
"For God's sake, Stiff." I reply.

"You don't have to follow me," she says, placing her foot where two of the bars meet and pushing herself up, grabbing hold  
of another bar, swaying a little; but I know my place. I _do_ have to follow her.

"Yes, I do." I can see her mouth twitching in a smile as she grabs the next bar. I haul myself up as easily as I can pull  
myself in a moving train, even though it's not as easy as it seems, especially if you're a height-fearing Dauntless. Above me,  
Tris reaches a point where she looks back and, finally, sees clarity, and she stops to stare. She looks attentively as I make  
my way up, and she points. "See that?"

I reach behind her and place my head next to hers, my chin close to her temple, my breaths as shaky as they can possibly be  
against her ear. I focus and look to where she's pointing. Enveloped in all the darkness, a small pulse of light stands out; the  
enemy. A smile spreads across my face, "Yeah. It's coming from the park at the end of the pier," I say. "Figures. It's surrounded  
by open space, but the trees provide some camouflage. Obviously not enough." I am too proud of my team selection to think  
about height. I am as happy as ever, now. I can finally beat Eric in his game.

"Okay," she replies, looking at me from over her shoulder, inspecting the corners of my mouth. "Um," she says, clearing  
her throat. "Start climbing down, I'll you."

I nod as I step down, guiding my body in between bars, my hands red and shaky. Above me, Tris steps down in a bar, and  
it breaks, bouncing against several bars before me as it makes its way to the ground. My eyes are wide as I think of a  
solution. _Think_. Tris dangles above me, gasping. "Four!" she shouts.

I look down and find the machine's control system, an Idea building up inside my head. If I can turn the wheel on…

I start climbing down. "Hold on!" I shout at her, "Just hold on, I have an idea." I keep climbing down, my fear for heights already  
gone and replaced with adrenaline. I shuffle down and down and down, above me, Tris keeps shouting my name. _My nickname_, I remind myself.

I reach down to the control machine, and I find the break that switches the Ferris wheel on. A second passes before I lose it.  
The wheel isn't moving. "Come on!" I shout at the machine. A heartbeat flashes away before I hear a creaking sound, the  
machine starting to sway. It worked. The Ferris wheel is moving.

I laugh to myself with relief as I watch Tris's body moving safely towards the ground. I move away from the machine as  
Tris hurtles towards the ground, rolling over twice to avoid getting crushed by one of the cars. By the time I reach her side,  
her hands are pressed to her face. I grab her wrists and I pull them away from her face before I take one of her hands and  
enclose it in mine, my heartbeat still fast. When is it going to slow down?

"You all right?" I ask, pressing her hand against mine.

"Yeah," she replies.

Without thinking, I start to laugh and, after a second, she joins me. She pushes herself up with her free and the space  
between us diminishes to barely a few inches. But what's weirder, I want for the space to be less.

Before I lose it, I stand up, hauling her up with me while the wind of the wheel pushes her hair against her face.  
"You could've told me that the Ferris wheel still worked," she says casually. "We wouldn't have had to climb in the first place."

"I would have, if I had known," I reply. "Couldn't just let you hang there, so I took a risk. Now come on, time to get their flag."

I hesitate as I think of how to present her. Not holding her would make me seem heartless, especially after all the recent events. Holding her close would make me look needy, like I need more of her close to me. I think for a moment and end up holding her  
firmly by the elbow, to seem like I'm not interested, but smiling as softly as I can, so I don't look heartless. We move towards the carousel, were half of our team sat as bored as ever, our flag behind Christina.

"Where'd the others go?" I ask excitedly, my eyes wide with anticipation.

"Did you guys turn on the wheel?" asks someone whose name I can't recall. "What the hell are you thinking? You might as  
well just have shouted 'Here we are! Come and get us!'" She shakes her head in disappointment. "If I lose again this year,  
the shame will be unbearable. Three years in a row?"

"The wheel doesn't matter," I say. "We know where they are." If I were to be more accelerated than I am, I could literally jump  
around the carousel, clapping my hands and screaming "Yay!"

"We?" asks Christina, looking at me before looking at Tris.

"Yes, while the rest of you were twiddling your thumbs, Tris climbed the Ferris wheel to look for the other team."

"What do we do then?" says someone in between yawns.

Without knowing how to respond, I look at Tris. Guys can sometimes be braver, but girls will always be smarter. Slowly,  
everyone turned their attention to her. She looked confused for a second, until her eyes shined bright with ideas. I knew I  
wouldn't regret having her on my team.

"Split in half," she says. "Four of us go to the right side of the pier, three to the left. The other team is in the park at the end  
of the pier, so the group of four will charge as the group of three sneaks behind the other team to get the flag." Smart.

"Sounds good," says the girl from before. "Let's get this night over with."

I leave with the group of four while Tris, Uriah, and Christina go to the right. I lead my group along our side of the pier as I  
observe a fast twitch of bushes in the other side; our team making their way towards the flag. I reach an area close to the  
pier's end and I look back, counting backwards from three with my fingers, my gun ready at my side. As soon as my hand  
balls in to a fist, we uncover ourselves from hiding, shouting and shooting at the enemy as they stand in confusion. I am shooting  
like crazy at every enemy in sight, my eyes wide, my heart racing as fast as it was in the Ferris wheel, when I hear a shout; a  
shout of victory. I look to the side and watch as Christina makes her way forward, flag in hand, and as people grab her arm for  
the flag to reach even higher. I move towards Tris with pride as she steps aside, grinning.

I move behind her, meaning to hug her, but instead my hand reaches for her shoulder.

"Well done," I say quietly, my heart still not tranquilizing.

**A/N - There goes the chapter :) I hope you guys liked it, so please leave reviews and tell me what you think!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - I was debating on whether or not I should write this chapter, since Veronica Roth already did in Free Four, but I tried to go for it :) Sorry it took me too long to wirte this! I hope you enjoy it ^^**

******I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

On the way back to the compound, I once again blocked all the conversation on the train. I could see Tris, Uriah and Marlene chatting off  
in a corner, but my eyes were mostly focused, again, on the moon, but this time thinking about something else. This time, thinking about the  
girl in the corner of the train car; the Stiff; the girl form Abnegation. My mind is still invaded by the thought of the Ferris wheel, her brilliant  
idea in the midst of my fear of heights, the lack of space between us…

I trudged in my room and immediately found myself in the bathroom, both of my hands at each side of the sink, my face looking down, my back  
hunched over. I press my palm over my chest, to find—Oh no!—my heart accelerating all over again. I shake my head and I open the sink,  
splash water all over my face, and I head for my head.

I throw myself in it, my head facing the ceiling, and I close my eyes for a last time that day, the memory of my hand against Tris's still buzzing  
all over my head.

I enter the training room the next morning, still tired and with bags under my eyes as proof, only to find a pissed-off Eric, setting knives on  
a table at the end of the room. He looks back at me, his eyes full of anger, as soon as I enter. He points to the targets at the table's side,  
and I rush in without a word. I place target after target in a parallel line in the wall opposite to the tables, Eric muttering... strange things,  
behind me. I know I should probably be scared; Mad Eric is not the side you'd ever want to encounter, but I felt alive with energy, the rush of  
victory from last night still inside my brain, my veins, my body.

"Don't make yourself comfortable with your winning thing," he says. "It was just a lucky shot."

"It's not my 'winning thing'. It's called strategy. You should learn about it."

At this he stopped what he was doing. I have to admit, I just talk too much sometimes. He turned around and looked at me, straight at my wide  
eyes while his were angrier than ever now. I think he was about to scream, but he changed his mind. "Watch it, Four," he tells me instead.

All at once, the initiates walk inside the Training room, all jolly and happy, until they notice Eric's bad mood. He stares at each and every  
one of them from the room's center as they position themselves on one side of the room.

"Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one," he say. "You will resume fighting then. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone pick up  
three knives and pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them."

Everyone is still, including myself, and my heart beat, which has finally dropped acceleration.

"Now!" he shouts. All at once, the initiates scrambled to the table, each grabbing hold of three daggers. I can feel Eric shooting furious looks  
at me, still pissed off from last night, but I turn my attention to the target. I recall my past, and I see my instructor, standing in the same position  
as I am now. _Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale and shoot_, I recall him say. I close my eyes briefly and, when again they open, they are full of  
concentration, though the fact that Tris's eyes are not leaving me still nags my mind. I inhaled once, and let it out. I inhaled again, and I  
focused on the target's center. _Shoot_. The dagger flew across the room, spinning from end to end before it hit the target's very center.

I smile to myself as I take another dagger, from my left hand to my right, and I repeat the shoot, my knife hitting the center once again, the  
thought of Tris observing my every move still nagging me.

"Line up!" Eric orders.

I move aside and watch the initiates. I can see Tris, practicing without a knife, making herself comfortable and familiar with the right positions,  
doing the right movements. Smart.

"I think the Stiff's taken too many hits to the head!" says Peter. "Hey, Stiff! Remember what a knife is?" My face contorts at his unintelligent  
comments. What's his deal, anyway? Tris decides to ignore him, and her hand finds a knife. She practices once without releasing it, then again,  
breathing in and out like I do. Her knife spins around, towards the target. It bounces off the center instead of staying there, but her knife  
is the first to hit the target. The first Jumper _and _the first Thrower.

Her eyes enlighten with a sense of victory as Peter throws his own dagger, missing the target. She smirks before saying, "Hey, Peter,  
remember what a target is?" I must admit; when she's into something, that girl is a tough cookie.

After a half hour, Big Guy Al is the only one without success in knife-throwing. I can sense Eric desperation as Al gets his knives. But Eric breaks  
as soon as he misses. He marches towards Al., "How slow are you? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer to you?" he mocks  
in a demanding voice, Al's face now red. He turns and tries for another throw, but it hits the wall instead. I bite my thumb. This is not going to  
end nicely, and I can sense everyone else thinks so, too, for the room has gone all quiet.

"What was that, initiate?" Eric asks quietly, leaning closer to Al.

"It—it slipped," he replies.

"Well, I think you should go get it." Eric scans the room, noticing the silence, and observes every transfer face in the room. "Did I tell you to  
stop?" he says.

All at once, knives start hitting boards and walls. I can understand his rage for his loss last night, but he looks like he's about to explode,  
though I wouldn't be concerned if he ever did. Al's eyes are now wide. "Go get it?" he asks. "But everyone else is still throwing."

"And?"

"And I don't want to get hit."

"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you," Eric says with a cruel smile. "Go get your knife."

I can see the terror leave Al's eyes. Before I realize what he's about to do, he speaks up. "No." Wrong move. I brace myself for what is coming,  
Eric's eyes now fixed on Al's face.

"Why not?" he asks. "Are you afraid?"

"Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife? Yes, I am!" I understand his acts of courage, but facing Eric while he's mad is never a good idea.  
There's a brief moment of hesitation before Eric stops everyone. Every conversation fades, and every knife drops. "Clear out of the ring," he says,  
still looking at Al. "All except you."

Everyone drops their knives and they head to the room's side. I stay still in my spot, afraid, but I act like I don't care at all. He mustn't  
know I'm afraid of what he does, especially when it's this side of him that does it. _The boy with four fears_, I tell myself. _Better not become five_.

"Stand in front of the target," says Eric. I gulp and I watch Al's hand shake as he walks back to the target.

"Hey, Four, give me a hand here, huh?"

Perfect. I'll be the cause of an initiate's death. _He forced you to_, I tell myself. But I know I have to seem brave and careless, for Eric's in the  
room. I scratch my eyebrow with a knife point and I approach the ruthless idiot that stands in the center of the room, forcing myself not to  
throw my body at him and kill him right there with a dagger.

Eric turns to Al, saying "You're going to stand there as he throws those knives until you learn not to flinch."

I tense up. _Look bored! _I remind myself. "Is this really necessary?" I say with the most boring voice I could summon. He looks at me, and I look  
back. I just realized I challenged him. I should never challenge that sick bastard.

"I have authority here, remember?" Eric says, quiet enough for me to be the only one to her him, though I know everyone else heard.  
"Here and everywhere else." I just hate it when he plays the authority card. I can feel heat rushing to my face, but my expression stays put.  
The knives are starting to cut my hands for because of how tight I've been holding them, but it doesn't matter. My jaw is set, but not because  
I want to. I am about to bull a knife back when, from the side of the room, I hear a female voice, an angry female voice, saying "_Stop_ it."

I turn the dagger in hand and I give her a hard look. I understand her intentions, though, but what is he really trying to prove? Whatever it  
is, I want to help her.

"Any idiot can stand in front of a target," she says confidently. "It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a  
sign of _cowardice_."

"Then it should be easy for you," Eric replies, "If you're willing to take his place."

I can feel Eric's eyes shift to mine, ever so briefly, a wicked smile plastered in his face. It's as if he knew I had a thing for her, and now he's  
forcing me to throw knives at her. I am seriously considering throwing knives at him instead, maybe at the arm, or the leg…

"There goes your pretty face," hisses Peter, shaving her shoulder. "Oh, wait. You don't have one."

_Your mother doesn't have one_, I think. She walks forward, towards the target, while Al nods at her encouragingly. She stands in front of the  
board, her head barely reaching the target's center, and her eyes shift to my hands and then to my eyes.

"If you flinch," I say softly, "Al takes your place. Understand?"

She nods; she understands. Behind me, Eric taps his foot impatiently; I have to get this right. I recall Peter's comment as soon as I throw  
my elbow back and inhale. _There goes your pretty face_.

I exhale and I throw the knife, my eyes still on hers. The knife spins form end to end and lands with a thud in the board, right next to her  
cheek. It is not enough. Eric will think I'm throwing the knives away from her on purpose, but even so, my hands shake with relief as she closes  
her eyes. She mustn't be relieved, not yet. She needs to stay strong.

"You about done, Stiff?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "No."  
"Eyes open, then," I remind her, tapping the spot in between my eyebrows. She stares at me silently, her eyes filled with fear and a pint  
of readiness. I pass one knife from my left hand to my right. Inhale, exhale. I pull my elbow back, my stare never leaving her eyes. Inhale.  
I am prepared. I focus my sight on the space above her head. Shoot.

The second knife is stuck in the board, right above her head, and closer to her than the last one. Behind me, Eric inches forward, inspecting  
me like the Erudite he's always been, looking for any source of weakness.

"Come on, Stiff," I say "Let someone else stand there and take it."

"Shut up, Four!" she replies furiously.

I gulp, turning the last knife in my hand. I can feel Eric's eyes, still on me, expectantly. If I really want to prove to him that I don't desire her,  
I have to hurt her. I focus on the spot around her ears, and I exhale. The blade spins around the room and lands on the board. I can see  
blood trickling down the side of her face, and I give a look of pity that accidentally comes out harsher than expected.

"I would love to stay and see if the rest of you are as daring as she is," Eric says, as if nothing happened, "but I think that's enough for today."

He moves forward and sets a hand on Tris's shoulder, giving her a successful look and a smile as I tense up. Does he know? "I should keep an  
eye on you," he says before lifting his hand and leaving along with the rest, leaving Tris and I alone. The door shuts before she looks at me again.

"Is your-" I start.

"You did that on _purpose_!" she interrupts.

I breathe slowly and try not to shout back. "Yes, I did," I say. "And you should thank me for helping you." At this, she grits her teeth. If  
she could only understand my reasons…

"_Thank_ you? You almost stabbed my ear, and you spent the entire time taunting me. Why should I thank you?" _Control yourself, Tobias_.

I couldn't control myself. "You know, I'm getting a little tired of waiting for you to catch on!" I say, glaring at her. Why can't she understand?

"Catch on? Catch on to what? That you wanted to prove Eric how tough you are? That you're sadistic, just like he is?"

I feel a pang of pain, unlike any other, inside me. I can understand her insults, but I will _never_ be just like Eric. "I am not sadistic," I say quietly.  
I walk towards her and lean my face close to hers; reminding me of the last time we were this close, at the Ferris wheel. I have a strange urge  
to kiss her lips. "If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I would've already?"

I move away, towards the door, before I could lose it. I didn't want to be mad at her, but she has to know I'm not soft. For a pint of drama,  
I turn around and throw the knife in my hand at the table before renewing my path towards the door. I could hear her shouting behind me, but  
I was already out of the door.

**A/N - So there it goes :) I hope you liked it3**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N - It is finally here :) Sorry it took me so long to write this, but Im ver busy lately. Hopefully the next chapter comes tomorrow, so enjoy this one ^^**

******I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

I angrily trudge through some hallways I don't care to recognize, unsure of where to go. _Sadistic my ass_, I tell myself as I roll my eyes.  
Unbelievable; but as much as I hate it, she may be right. What if I am as cruel and sadistic as Eric? Am I becoming a true Dauntless?

_No_, I shake my head as I turn another corner. _You know your place, Tobias_.

I stop in my path in the middle of a deserted, random hallway, my breaths heavy. I close my eyes and place a hand above them as I lean  
in to the wall, back first. My body seems to melt right to the floor, for I just realized something. I do not know my place. I do not know  
my intentions. I do not know myself.

Who is Tobias?

I breathe in and out once before I push open the doors to the Training Room, arriving later than usual. I trudge in to find Edward, Myra,  
Christina, Will, Al, and an angry, blood-thirsty Eric. He turns around in a quick motion as soon as the door closes behind me, and I notice  
that his eyes are full of anger, but his body is relaxed, which is weird since he's never relaxed. Anger is the only feeling I can recognize in this  
wild hound.

"You're late," he states.

Uninterested, I reply, "I noticed."

He stares at me in response, everyone in the room has fallen silent. I gulp down my urge to slap Eric across his face, and I approach him with  
smooth steps. Brave of me… Probably…

Eric stares at me in disbelief before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I roll mine back at him, unsure of what to do, when Peter, Molly, and  
Drew burst in the room with a loud laughter.

"That Stiff has nothing on her!" laughs Drew.

"I think you kicked her too hard on her butt," says Molly with a snort. "She's got something weird on it."

They all burst out laughing. I clench my jaw tightly, my hands are drawn into fists, and my heartbeat accelerates once again. If there only  
were International days of punching people in the face until their death…

"FOUR!" Eric shouts at me.

I blink several times before focusing in the angry Eric in front of me. I look at him, my eyes narrowed as if asking him a question, and he hands  
me a paper with the names of today's fighters. "Last fight today, here's the list. Write them on the board," he says, pointing at the board  
behind him. I sigh and walk behind him, towards the board, before reading the paper:

1. Will and Myra  
2. Christina and Al  
3. Edward and Peter  
4. Tris and Molly

I close my eyes and grasp the chalk lightly before starting to write the names on the board, the fact that Tris will be finhting Molly nagging inside  
my head.

I am still writing Al's name by the time I hear the door open and close at the toher end of the room.

"Hey, where were you this morning?" I hear Christina say.

"I got held up," Tris replies. I fight against the will of looking back into Tris's eyes, but I can sense that she is looking in my direction. _But If you  
look back_, I remind myself, _Eric will…_

I finish writing the list of initiates and I step aside, noticing that Tris's eyes _are_ staring in my direction, my heart skipping a beat, and my mouth  
attempting to suppress a smile. But I also notice that her eyes, full of malice, aren't on me, but on the board, at her name, and at her opponent's.  
I stare at her, eyes wide open, as I try to catch her attention, meaning to tell her through my look that she shouldn't go for anything stupid, but I  
feel Eric's eyes on me, and I control myself as Will and Myra approach the center of the room.

They shuffle each other, throwing some kicks and punches and failing to hit a target like little idiots; but of course, this bores me since it's  
not the fight I'm waiting for. Besides me, Eric rolls his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest, while I yawn and lean against the wall.

Because of the adrenaline, my mind made it look like the fights went by with the blink of an eye, but they took longer. Al lost against Christina  
quickly, taking a few hard punches before falling to the floor and not getting up, and receiving the usual look of disgust from Eric. Edward and  
Peter's fight was much longer, for they are both strong enough to take a hard hit and punch one back without difficulty, but Edward was  
more experienced than Peter, and faster, and smarter. The match's outcome was already obvious, but Eric acted as if every movement was an  
unexpected event.

As soon as Edward and Peter are over, Tris shuffles forward, her stare fixed on the center of the room, and Molly moves to stand in front of her.  
I slightly move my hand, trying to call her attention and give her an encouraging nod, or a smile, but her eyes do not move.

"Was that a birthmark I saw on your left butt cheek?" says Molly with a smirk. "God, you're pale, Stiff." Sick.

Molly starts towards her, throwing back her hand and forming it into a fist, but as her body shifts, Tris ducks and punches her hard in the stomach  
and moves out of a punching rate, ready for a next attack and taking away a couple of breaths and wide eyes, mine included.

Molly's smirk is far gone by the time she goes for a tackle, but Tris moves out of the way and blocks Molly's punch with her thin forearm. Molly  
groans and instinctively goes for a kick, but Tris dodges once again and goes for a smack at the head with the elbow, like I once told her, but  
only achieves to hit her chin. I was meant to scream and laugh and clap at the same time, but Eric's eyes were on me as well as they were on  
the fight, so I controlled the anxiety in a small smile.

Molly hits Tris in the ribs, and she stumbles back momentarily to catch her breath before exploiting her opponent's weaknesses. She inspects Molly  
up and down like a wild animal, searching for a pray, or a desperate police officer, searching up and down a random person at an airport for something,  
anything, that will raise his salary. Finally, Tris's hands curl up into a fist and aim for a low uppercut, forcing Molly to release a heavy  
breath, and leaving her desperate for a clasp of air. Before she can try anything, though, Tris sweeps her legs from underneath her, and to the  
ground goes the sick, sick Molly. Not that I am amused, but my eyes are wide now. Wide, as if they were about to pop out of my head and roll  
around happily throughout the compound.

Tris kicks Molly once in the side before she has the time to curl up, and then again at her head, forcing blood to splatter out of Molly's nose,  
and again and again. Eric looks at me in amazement, his eyes wide, but not as wide as mine. Who would have known that a Stiff could be so…  
Dauntless.

I snap out of my daze and I move forward as her foot goes back, hungry for another kick, but it stops its path as soon as I hug Tris, pulling her  
away before she goes as mad and as blood-thirsty as Eric. I watch as blood gurgles inside Molly's mouth.

"You won," I say. "Stop."

She wipes her forehead's sweat before looking at me, noticing my alarmed eyes for the first time. "I think you should leave," I continue.  
"Take a walk." I meant to add that I would go with her on that walk, but I stopped midsentence as I noticed Eric's stare, and the fact that it  
watched us cautiously.

"I'm fine," she responds. "I'm fine now."

I stared deep into her eyes and, right there I recognized that she was fine, even though she tends not to seem like it. But what's worse is that  
now I am completely sure that what I want is to be fine with her.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N - Im really sorry I couldn't write anything for such a long time; a few complications arose, but here it is :) I hope you like this chapter ^^**

******I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

I wake up as soon as the realization of today hits me: It's Visiting Day. Today is the day when everyone around the Dauntless compound  
gathers around, drinking or hugging or laughing along with their families while I stand near the chasm, usually with a drink of my own, like  
the lonely idiot I am today.

With a sigh, I roll myself out of bed, falling with a thump on the floor, my hands set on my eyes. I rub the tiredness out of them and I let my  
hands fall by my side, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. I push myself up before walking into the bathroom and curling up at the sink. I raise my  
eyes and observe the pale, blue-eyed figure in the mirror, now with bags under its eyes. It is strange, indeed, how a simple sing as a young,  
skinny girl or a family day can come to ruin the life of a man. No, not a man, a boy. A mere youngster who has not yet discovered himself.  
I bite my lip before shaking my head lightly and taking off my clothes, headed for the shower.

Already dressed up, I place my hand on the doorknob, bracing myself for the torment that will come next. I open my room, eyes closed,  
expecting to feel the sun's warmth as I enveloped myself for another day of safety down in Abnegation, and I breathe in deeply, expecting  
to inhale the sweet, clean air of the peaceful compound, but I guess those dreams are more gone than ever now. Once I open my eyes, I  
am greeted by the lousy Dauntless compound, only it is now far too filled with people, for everyone's family is present. Everyone's except for  
mine.

I suddenly feel a pressure building up inside me. My heart starts beating rapidly, and my chest is starting to swell up, making it harder for me  
to breathe. It is too crowded, there is very little space, and it is suddenly too hard to concentrate. Too. Hard. To. Breathe.

I close the door behind me and find myself moving through the Pit as quick as my legs could let me, earning a few suspicious glances on the way.  
_Peace_, I thought. I need someplace peaceful. My eyes finally rest on the chasm. I think of my secret sanctuary behind the cool wall of water.  
Would anyone see me if I went inside? There are many people in one place, the crowd will hide me, I thought. It's not like anyone will notice  
me.

_But what if they do?_ I remind myself. I can't take my chances.

My heart still racing, I reach the railing. And I close my eyes once again. I force the pressure out of my system and I breathe every water-crisped  
air particle that I can manage to suck in. I repeat this over and over again, but the feeling of more people bursting through the doors keeps  
nagging me. The lack of space in the Pit is critical. This is what I receive from begin claustrophobic. But then again, I can't belong here if I don't  
face my fears.

I open my eyes and swallow the knot in my throat, slowly, but effectively. I sigh as I take a look around me, for a pint of jealousy starts to form  
within me; jealous because of all of these lucky bastards who get to share a day with their awesome family while I stand alone in a corner.  
I remember how a couple of months ago I saw a coded message from my mother, telling me that she was alive and wanted to meet me. Of  
course, I went. I remember how she hugged me, tears forming in her eyes at the sight of her lost son, as I stood awkwardly trying to embrace  
the fact that she was there, despite the fact that I stood at her funeral the year of my Choosing Ceremony. She had asked me to join her,  
for she claims that a factionless life is as good as any. I planned to do so, as soon as I got back, but then I met her. I met Tris.

I spot her blond hair easily in the crowd, and my eyes focus on the strands of the same blond hair that stood beside her, accompanied by loose,  
gray Abnegation clothing. Her mother. I'm shocked at how much they resemble; the same chin, hair, and form. I gulp and focus again on the  
chasm. I think back to my life in Abnegation, and open my eyes widely as I think of the numerous times we've met. If she remembers me…

I turn around again and, to my surprise, find myself, wide-eyed, staring as Tris and her mom move from their spot towards mine, their postures  
confident and simple. Natalie Prior offers me her hand.

"Hello. My name is Natalie," she says. "I'm Beatrice's mother."

Stiffly, I take her hand and shake it twice. "Four," I respond. "It's nice to meet you."

"Four," Natalie repeats with a smile. "Is that a nickname?"

"Yes," I say, giving the hint that the subject is needed to be left behind. Eager to change the subject, I say, "Your daughter is doing well here.  
I've been overseeing her training." I sense Tris's body tense a bit at the word overseeing. I wonder if she's trying to figure me out.

"That's good to hear," says her mother. "I know a few things about Dauntless initiation, and I was worried about her." She may know about  
Dauntless initiation, but not about how it's changed. I look at Tris, inspecting her look carefully, from her eyes, to her nose, to her lips, to her chin.  
"You shouldn't worry," I finally say, trying to let her know that I believe she can make it through this. At this, Tris starts to blush.

Suddenly, Natalie changes the topic. "You look familiar for some reason, Four," she says, tilting her head with a dubious expression. I tense.  
What if she knows?

"I can't imagine why," I reply, my tone sounding harder than I thought it would be. "I don't make a habit of associating with the Abnegation."

At this, she laughs lightly. "Few people do, these days," she says. "I don't take it personally."

Some of the tension leaves me at the sound of her laugh. I can't believe how much a simple smile can make me lighter. Eager to leave behind  
the awkardness, I say, "Well, I'll leave you ot your reunion."

I turn around and dissolve into the crowd, but I feel Tris and Natalie's eyes, still watching my every move, up untill I cross the doors of the Pit,  
cross each hallway, and make my way to my room. For two years I've been hiding myself from a past life, fitting myself in another place, developing  
a new lie, a lie I thought would last forever. That lie is more like a pice of pottery, so thin anyone could break it. I close the door behind me  
and sit in my bed as I realize that today, beause of some mother from an Abnegation, that piece of pottery almost shattered.

It was close. Too close.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N - Again, Im so sorry for taking so long in writing this, but I hope you enjoy it :) Expect some Fourtris emotions in this chapter ;)**  
**I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

I slap my face and sag my hand down my hand after remembering having to calculate the results for this stage of initiation. I look  
wearily at the board, now empty, in the corner of my room, eager to leave for dinner but knowing I cannot. With a sigh, I shuffle towards  
the board, pick it up, and carry it with me back to my bed.

I think back of the set of fights I saw throughout the week, thinking of a first name as I lay down. The only person that has been successful  
in all of the fights was Edward, Peter after him. No contest, I scribble down "Edward" in the first slot with "Peter" on the one underneath.  
_Now what?_ I breathe out a long breath, letting my lips flap together like a horse's as I think to myself, who goes next?

I skip to the last slot and write the name of the person who everyone expected to go last; I don't blame her, she _is_ weaker than the rest.  
I scribble down "Myra" in the last slot. Above her goes Al, for he failed in every fight salve for his first, even if he did so for an honorable  
reason.

I stare at the five slots left with a puzzled look, thinking of who to put where, the constant reminder of Eric taking it on me if I get the names  
wrong banging against my temples. Without thinking, I write down "Will" and "Christina" on the third and fourth slots and "Drew" on the  
seventh. I recall the last fight, between Tris and Molly, and think of who to put where. Tris became more successful on her fights after the  
one with Peter, and the way she beat down Molly would give her a higher spot. But as I recall her fight with Peter, I think of how easily she  
went down, and as I think of it, Molly didn't do badly either, salve on her last fight. I write down "Molly" on the fifth slot and "Tris" on the sixth.  
I stand up, stretching my back while I'm at it, and head out for the dormitory, board and chalk in hand, my stomach growling but not wanting  
to eat, for all I can expect at dinner is an interrogation session form Tris, wanting to know about my secret Abnegation life.

I sit with the board facing to my legs as I explain to the initiates how their first stage of initiation is scored for about a third time. Just as I am  
done, another group enters the dormitory, Tris in between them. My stomach suddenly churns and does its crazy turns inside me, and I have to  
control myself from hitting my stomach over and over until it stops. I steady my voice as much as I can and, even now that I am aware of Tris  
in this small room, who tries to place her stare on me above all, I begin, "For those of you who just came in, I'm explaining how the ranks are  
determined." I get the sudden urge of looking at Tris, running over to her, caress her arms, run my hands down her cheeks—

"After the first round of fights," I continue, "we ranked you according to your skill level. The number of points you earn depends on your skill level  
and the skill level of the person you beat. You earn more points for improving and more points for beating someone of a high skill level. I don't  
reward preying on the weak. That is cowardice." I purposely turn a quick glance towards Peter before continuing.

"If you have a high rank, you lose points for losing to a low-ranked opponent." Before me, Molly makes a strange noise, probably aware  
that she's the only one who's lost to someone weaker, even though I know Tris is not. "Stage two of training is weighted more heavily than  
stage one, because it is more closely tied to overcoming cowardice." _And who are you to talk about cowardice? _I think to myself. "That said,  
it is extremely difficult to rank high at the end of initiation if you rank low in stage one."

My system suddenly betrays me, and I find myself staring at Tris, who shifts from foot to foot to catch my eye. She looks at me, and I look  
back, my stomach still churning. "We will announce the cuts tomorrow," I say. "The fact that you are transfers and the Dauntless-born initiates  
are not will not be taken into consideration. Four of you could be factionless and none of them. Or four of them could be factionless and none  
of you. Or any combination thereof. That said, here are your ranks."

I take the board in my hands and hang it on the hook behind me before stepping back. I observed the initiates' faces as they analyzed the  
board before them, and the only reaction I could spot was shock, specially the expression of the same plastered in Tris' face. A wild silence  
fills the room. That is, until Molly interrupts it.

"What?" Molly shouts while pointing a bony finger at Christina. "I beat her! I beat her in minutes, and she's ranked above me?" And then  
the mutters begin.

"Yeah," says Christina with a cross of arms and a grin. "And?"

"If you intend to secure yourself a high rank," I break in above all noises, " I suggest you don't make a habit of losing to low-ranked opponents."  
I place the piece of chalk that has gotten my hands powder-white and I walk out of the room, aching to look at Tris' face for a last time that day,  
but holding the ache in. I walk out of the door, listening to Molly's shouting behind me and eager to get out of it, and, without caring or thinking,  
I walk into my sanctuary.

I lay staring up at a dark void, the rough surface of my sitting rock underneath me, unable to think of anything but Tris. I think again of how  
badly I wanted to be with her fifteen minutes ago, and I gulp as it finally hits me. This is why I was meant to be Dauntless; for her.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N- Sorry I've been away for a while, but I had some exams I had to take care of and I hat to study a lot, but I'm here now :) Hopefully the chapters will come in as quickly as like when I first started them. Sorry for this lame-ish, short-ass chapter, but calm down, there's more to come. Again, im sorry for my pause, but I hope you enjoy this short chapter :)**

I hear a knock on my door in the wee hours of the morning. Groaning, I walk myself towards the sound, and behind the door stand Lauren  
and Eric, both waiting expectantly.

"I was expecting a more noticeable six-pack," says Eric, reminding me that I am currently bare-chested. Lauren just rolls her eyes.

"Let's go, Four," urges Lauren.

"Where?" I ask, yawning and rubbing away the tiredness in my eyes.

"One of your initiates almost died tonight, go calm the rest down."

This stopped me short. "What? What happened?" I asked, grabbing a hoodie and zipping it on. "I'll explain on the way, but we have to go now,"  
says Lauren, "now move your buttocks, Four!" She hauls me away, leaving me no time to even close the door behind me.

Inside the dormitory, everything is chaos. Peter, Drew, and Molly are surrounded by and shouting at Christina, Al, and Will while Myra weeping  
in the corner, and Tris is nowhere to be found. I can't blame her, though, I'd probably also be disgusted by the pandemonium.

"Calm down, guys, it's alright," I try, but the noise is still bewildering. "Guys," I try raising my voice. Still nothing. I cup my hands over my mouth and  
I shout, "Shut up!" Finally, the room falls silent, and all eyes rest on me. Or, well, almost all of them, for Myra's weeping is still herd above  
the quiet.

"You know more about girls than anyone here, Christina". Molly shoots me an evil look. "Could you please try and calm her down?" I ask,  
motioning for Myra. Without protest, Christina nods and heads for the corner, keels down over Myra and starts whispering to her in a soothing  
tone.

"Alright everyone, listen up," I start. "I am tired and cranky so I want to get this over with soon. You all experienced what happened here tonight.  
I don't know who did this, but whoever did will pay the price—"

"I know who did it," interrupts Al, "we all do."

"And who's that?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

"Peter."

"And Drew," adds Will.

Peter and Drew try to look astonished, though their looks tell otherwise. I had my doubt about those two before, but the crime is obvious now.  
I sense that they're about to pick up another discussion, but before the screaming fills my ears, I say, "Don't jump into conclusions so quickly."

"Yeah," says Drew.

"Shut up, that doesn't mean you didn't do it," I spit out. The look of astonishment is real now, I can tell, while Al and Will and Christina smile  
to themselves. Frankly, I want to smile along with them.

"Anyway," I continue, "Keep in mind that everything will be alright now. Edward is recovering away from all of you monsters and what counts is  
that he will survive. For now. Now, go to sleep, it's not like none of you've ever experienced death before."

I turn around and leave everyone, now mouth-opened, behind, towards my room where I can still have some beauty sleep in the few hours left  
of rest.

I warned them I was cranky.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N- Here's the next chapter; Tris' first fear in the second stage of initiation. Some Fourtris fluff goes on in here, so i hope you like it :)  
I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

I ate with Lauren by the time the others came back. And Tris was with them. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was a mess, and I am  
about to scowl at them for taking an initiate in this time of "crisis" when I notice the bright look in her eyes. I recognize that look. It was the one  
I had when I convinced myself that Dauntless was the right place to go. As I look at her, sitting down at the other table with Christina, Will and Al,  
I think that Dauntless was the right place after all.

All the initiates sit huddled in the dark hallway, the one that opens to the simulation room. "The Dauntless-born initiates and the transfers were  
separated during stage one, but we will be training together from now on," I say before taking one of them with me.

One by one, I have enter these people's minds and observe their fears. Frankly, I find it funny when people scream over stupid little things, but  
after a while it becomes exhausting. I tell them what the second stage is all about and enter their subconscious over and over, grade them on their  
level of mastery and tranquility, and call in the next.

I am done analyzing Lyyn, and I revise the next name on my list as she leaves through the other door.

Tris.

Im amazed by having the chance to enter her head and see what goes on inside her. Is she normal? Is she scared of everything? Is she Divergent,  
like me?

I open the door and say, "Come on, Tris."

I hold on the door for her and watch as she stands, and makes her way over to me, hopping over Drew's extended leg on the way; I can't help but  
to smile to myself. I touch her shoulder slightly, just enough to seem like im not trying to grope her, and guide her inside, closing the door behind  
us. As soon as she makes out the room's interior, she recoils, bumping into me. I must've figured, since this room looks exactly like the simulation  
room she first encountered.

"Sit," I tell her, looking like I want to get over with this but actually eager to enter her head.

"What's the simulation?" she asks, her voice shaky.

"Ever hear the phrase 'face your fears'?" I say. "We're taking that literally. The simulation will teach you to control your emotions in the midst of a  
frightening situation." She brings her hand to her head and stiffly makes her way towards the chair.

"Do you ever administer the aptitude tests?" She asks.

"No," I reply. "I avoid Stiffs as much as possible." Anything to forget my past world, I do.

"Why?"

"Do you ask me that because you think I'll actually answer?"

"Why do you say vague things if you don't want to be asked about them?"

I move her hair aside, my fingers brushing against her neck. I shiver and gulp, hoping she didn't notice. I grab hold of the syringe and tap it several  
times. She tilts her head back and looks at me, holding the orange liquid in my hands.

"An injection?" She asks wearily.

"We use a more advanced version of the simulation here; a different serum, no wires or electrodes for you."

"How does it work without wires?"

"Well, I have wires, so I can see what's going on," I explain. "But for you, there's a tiny transmitter in the serum that sends data to the computer."

I turn her arm, shivering again but less noticable, and press the needle on the side of her neck. I watch her as she winces, and then her gaze turns  
on to me. I try to look calm, but my mind and heart are racing.

"The serum will go into effect in sixty seconds. This simulation is different from the aptitude test," I tell her. "In addition to containing the transmitter,  
the serum stimulates the amygdala, which is the part of the brain involved in processing negative emotions—like fear—and then induces a  
hallucination. The brain's electrical activity is then transmitted to our computer, which thentranslates your hallucination into a simulated image that  
I can see and monitor. I will then forward the recording to Dauntless administrators. You stay in the hallucination until you calm down—that is,  
lower your heart rate and control your breathing."

She looks at me, trying to listen carefully, but she starts to slip in. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and without thinking I press my pals on either  
side of her head and lean in.

"Be brave, Tris," I say softly. "The first time is always the hardest."

Once her eyes are closed, I hurry on my wires and stare at the computer screen.

There she is, on a deserted field of high grass, observing the grass and then the gray sky, Suddenly, a dark figure stumbles down and lands on  
her shoulder. A crow. She slaps it, trying to get it off, but the crow just stands perched on her arm. She looks at it, biting her lips, and the creature  
just stares back. She hits it again and cries out, probably because of its talons, the sound of thunder and rain heard without either graphically  
presented.

And then the others appear. She looks up at the cloud of crous that gathered above her, and I sense that she tries to escape, but she can't move.  
I have the eagerness to help her, somehow, but I can't. I write down her progress and continue watching., my nails completely gone now.

They peck at her everything and cling to her every spot while she just creams. She falls to the ground, and I hope that they'd be squished by her  
body weight, but they just endlessly peck at her, tears streaming down her cheeks. And then her face is gone. Another crown stands on her face  
and pecks at it, and I am going out of my mind, and she screams for help and swallows feathers, and I don't know what do to.

But I have to help somehow.

I move to her side, and as soothingly as I can, I remind her, "Be brave."

I look back at the screen. She hears me, but she still wails around. I can't blame her though, If that happened to me, I'd be doing the same.

I lean in again and say, "You stay in the hallucination until you can calm down."

She bites down at the head of a crow. I can see that she tries, but she can't. The tears are real now. The stream down her cheeks and fall on the  
chair.

"Calm down," I repeat. "Breathe."

The computer doesn't matter now. I can't see her cry like this. Just when I am about to shake her, her her eyes flutter open, and she instincitvely  
slaps her arms and legs, trying to get the crows off her. She moans and pulls her kees up close to her, burying her face in them. I try to soothe her,  
my fingers extending over her shoulder, but she punches me softly. "Don't touch me!"

Three minutes.

Is she Divergent?

"It's over," I say. I brush her hair with strange movements while she still brushes her arms. "Tris." And she rockas back and forth.

"Tris," I try, " I'm going to take you back to the dorms, okay?"

"No!" she suddenly snaps. She lifts her head and stares at me with tearful eyes. "They can't see me…not like this…" She means the other initiates.

"Oh, calm down," I roll my eyes. "I'll take you out the back door."

"I don't need you to…" She trembles, trying to stand but unable to. I wait and see if she can, but I know her better, apparently.

"Nonsense," I say.

I bring her out of the chair and lead her towards the back door as she cleans the tears out of her face, and then we're out in the silent hallway.  
After a while, she suddenly stops and takes her arm back. I forgot I held it in my hands.

"Why did you do that to me?" She claims. "What was the point of that, huh? I wasn't aware that when I chose Dauntless, I was signing up for  
weeks of torture!"

"Did you think overcoming cowardice would be easy?"

"That isn't overcoming cowardice! Cowardice is how you decide to be in real life, and in real life, I am not getting pecked to death by crows, Four!"  
And the sobbing starts again.

I am not good with this crying deal. I just watch her sob into her hands, and, after a moment, she stops and adds, "I want to go home."  
_You can't go home_, I try to say, but I just look at her.

"Learning how to think in the midst of fear is a lesson that everyone, even your Stiff family, needs to learn. That's what we're trying to teach you.  
If you can't learn it, you'll need to get the hell out of here, because we won't want you."

"I'm trying." She says. "But I failed. I'm failing."

I sigh. "How long do you think you spent in that hallucination, Tris?"

"I don't know. A half hour?"

"Three minutes," I say. "You got out three times faster than the other initiates. Whatever you are, you're not a failure." She looks surprised, and I  
can't help but to smile. "Tomorrow you'll be better at this. You'll see."

"Tomorrow?"

I renew our path to her dormitory, my hand on her back, my heart still scared and racing.

"What was your first hallucination?" she then asks.

The picture of my father comes to me suddenly. "It wasn't a 'what' so much as a 'who.'" I shrug, seeming careless. "It's not important."

"And are you over that fear now?"

"Not yet." We reach the door to the dormitory, and I palce my back on the wall and my hands in my pockets. "I may never be."

"So they don't go away?"

"Sometimes they do. And sometimes new fears replace them. But becoming fearless isn't the point. That's impossible. It's learning how to control  
your fear, and how to be free from it, that's the point."

She nods.

"Anyway, your fears are rarely what they appear to be in the simulation," I tell her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, are you really afraid of crows?" I smile, remembering what my own triner told me once, replacing the situation of heights with hers. "When  
you see one, do you run away screaming?"

"No. I guess not." And then she leans closer. Just like the Ferris wheel. She tilts her head and looks at me with weary eyes, my heart beating  
harder than ever. I'm scared, all of the sudden. Scared that she can hear it, but she seems careless.

"So what am I really afraid of?" She asks.

"I don't know," I reply."Only you can know."

"I didn't know becoming Dauntless would be this difficult," she says as she observes me. I am certain she can hear my racing heart now.

"It wasn't always like this, I'm told," I say, remembering my years here. "Being Dauntless, I mean."

"What changed?"

"The leadership." Obviously. Eric changed it all. "The person who controls training sets the standard of Dauntless behavior. Six years ago Max and  
the other leaders changed the training methods to make them more competitive and more brutal, said it was supposed to test people's strength.  
And that changed the priorities of Dauntless as a whole. Bet you can't guess who the leaders' new protégé is."

She looks at me. Am I _that_ attractive?

_Shut up_, I tell myself.

"So if you were ranked first in your initiate class," she asks, "what was Eric's rank?"

"Second."

"So he was their second choice for leadership." She says, nodding. Is nodding the new trend now? "And you were their first."

"What makes you say that?" I ask, surprised.

"The way Eric was acting at dinner the first night. Jealous, even though he has what he wants."

I don't say anything. If I contradict her, she still knows the truth. She then sniffs and smoothes down her hair casually.

"Do I look like I've been crying?"

"Hmm." I lean closer and narrow my eyes, as if inspecting her. I smile and lean in closer. I can't help but to think of the distance between us;  
almost non existant. I am breathless, and she is breathless, cause if I breathe, and she breathes, we breathe the same air.

"No, Tris. You look tough as nails."

She smiles at me, and I leave her behind, eager to look back, but hurrying down for the other initiates left. My heart betrayed me, and I am utterly  
certain now. Certain of her, certain of my choices, because she just cleared my mind.

Im falling in love with the girl from Abnegation.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N- Here goes Four's drunken experience! I've never been drunk, so I don't know how to express it, but I tried my best :) I hope you like it!  
****I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****  


As I finish with the rest of the initiates, I start making my way back to my room, tiredness creeping upon me like a silent killer waiting for  
the right time. I am about to cross the set of doors that lead to the set of paths that lead to my less private sanctuary, when I hear my name  
being called.

I turn around towards the noise and I notice a group of friends by the chasm. They are all laughing hysterically, as if they were sharing the last  
great joke in a world of sorrow—a world no different from this one—and I figure they're probably drunk. Chase—the tallest in the group—waves  
at me to join them. I wave back at him, signaling that I'm tired, but he strides over to me and pushes me over to his group of friends. Some of  
them I recognize, but I am too tired to care.

"Hey, man!" says Thomas, "So long no see. Want a drink?"

"I have to do something, maybe next time," I say as I start to turn around.

And then he talks again, "C'mon, its just a few drinks! Don't be a sissy; It's not like your dad will come around and slap you for it."

This stops me short. Anger surges up inside me as I replay his words in my head. I slowly turn around to face him, and as I see his peaceful  
expression, a lot of things come to mind. One thought—me throwing myself against him before throwing him over the chasm and afterwards eating  
cake—stands out, but I can't do it.

They would throw me out into the factionless. With my mother. Away form Tris.

In one quick motion, I take a step forward and take the bottle from Chase's hands, fighting down the urge to break it against his head, and take  
a swig. The bile taste of it stings my mouth, but after the taste comes the warm feeling inside. It feels good. Soon I take another sip. And another.  
And another. And a few more; I am soon under alcohol's spell.

Woozy. Everything feels woozy. I'm not even sure if woozy's a word, but I don't care. It perfectly describes my state. Which is happy. And weird.  
I don't know if you can feel weird, but I don't care. It perfectly describes my state. State. State. It's a funny word. Or is it?

Chase and the others—Angela, Thomas, Cas, Luna and Heinrich—all laugh about something. I join in. I don't know why, but laughing along seems  
like the right thing to do. Plus, laughing feels good. It feels like bubbles, and so does alcohol. I've gotten drunk one or twice before, but it seems  
like this time was the best of them. Every time was the best. It feels wrong, but it feels right. But that's the thing—everything feels right now.  
I'm happy, which is unusual, and I am glad. I am half in this world and half in my own.

I am still laughing, and then a sway of blonde hair catches my attention. Tris. And Will and Al and Christina. But Tris.

Without thinking, my mouth shapes her name in a shout and my legs lead me over to her. She looks confused, and I must look stupid, but I  
don't care. I black out the rest of them, and suddenly its only me. And her.

"You look different," I say.

"So do you," she replies with her sweet, sweet, voice. It makes me want to fly away in a rainbow with my magic pony. If only I had a pony.  
"What are you doing?"

"Flirting with death," I say, laughter bubbling up inside me as I think of a person dressed in a black tunic with his face covered and me sweeping  
in to make a move. "Drinking near the chasm. Probably not a good idea."

"No, it isn't." She looks worried. I like it. That she worries for me.

I then notice a black splotch in her collarbone. It sways around a little, but I make out an image. A Black bird. Three. Or Six."Didn't know you had  
a tattoo," I say, remembering the bottle in my hand and taking a sip. My mind then takes me back at the first day of the second stage of initiation,  
the swab of crows looming in to peck at her. "Right. The _crows_," I say. I want her to join me, be happy with me, but I know I shouldn't.  
I remember Chase and the others—looks like intoxication just makes you forget a lot of things—and I glance at them. I then turn around and  
add,"I'd ask you to hang out with us, but you're not supposed to see me this way."

"What way?" I ask. "Drunk?"

"Yeah…well, no. Real, I guess." But I'm not real now. I was real with her yesterday. And that time at the Ferris wheel. If only I could tell her.

"I'll pretend I didn't," she says.

"Nice of you." I feel tempted to smile and leave, but my mind is still not done. I absent-mindedly lean in, my mouth hovering above her ear, and I  
whisper, "You look good, Tris."

I pull back, and I can feel her stiffen in shock. A stiff Stiff. I should be a comedian. She looks at me and laughs the bubbly laugh of hers. "Do me  
a favor and stay away from the chasm, okay?" she says.

"Of course." I wink. She smiles. Will moves, but I don't mind. Her smile is dazzling and bright, It makes me happier. I turn around and leave her  
behind, and I feel her stare on my back. I join the others, and I turn around to look at her again, and I see her piggy-back riding in Al as he takes  
her away, waving at me. _That's not fair_, I think. _I want to piggy-back on Al's back. _

I remember the bottle in my hand, and I take a few hits, and then I finally give in. I feel my world go woozier than before, and I lose myself,  
Tris' smile still plastered in my eyelids every time I close my eyes.


	19. Author's Note

Hey guys!

I know it's been a long while since I've postend a new chapter, and I'm really, really sorry for making  
you all wait this long, but I've been going through a lot of fluff lately.

Anyways, this comment is to let you know that I'm back on the game and that the new chapter will come  
either today or tomorrow :)

Again, I am truly sorry for lasting so long!

-V


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N- Hey guys! So here's the next chapter, I hope you like it (: Im again sorry for waiting such a long time for this, but I'll try to write as regularly as possible.**  
**I do not own anything from the Divergent trilogy****

As I finish up with Christina, I tell her to send Tris in and start cleaning up the things Christina had  
kicked while she was being chased off by angry moths. My head was still woozy from the previous  
night, and I am not sure what happened, but I sure as hell remember Tris.

The door behind me opens and closes and I listen to Tris's silent footsteps as he makes her way to the  
chair. She lies down and blinks rapidly repeatedly.

"It's just a simulation, Tris," I say soothingly. As soothingly as I can, anyway.

She hesitates a moment before nodding and closing her eyes. I look for the injection spot in her arm  
and apply the serum. As it takes effect, I place my wires around me and look at the screen for her next  
simulation.

I see Tris as if from above, the orbs of light from the Pit lighting up one by one, and she is surrounded.  
She is surrounded by those she knows, all the Dauntless initiates, and there's also me, but not a real  
me. _Is that really how I look like?_

I, the real me, watch Tris as she squints, more in confusion than everything else. She reaches in  
front of her and her hands find a solid panel of glass. _A tank_, I tell myself, and my eyes open in horror.  
But if she is Divergent…

The fake Tobias—Four—steps forward and taps on the glass, smirking. He points down at Tris's feet,  
which are now beginning to soak with water. Water begins to fill in the tank, growing a dangerous  
amount in every second, and Tris looks up at the fake me, and I watch myself shrugh and turn around  
to stand amongst everyone else. Safe. As Tris realizes what is happening, she starts to panic.

"Hey!" she says, pounding her fists on the glass. "Let me out of here!"

The water rises up, up into her calves, her knees, and she pounds harder. _"_Calm yourself, Tris_" _I try  
to tell her, but obviously, she won't listen. She can't listen.

"Get me out of here!" she shouts.

I hear someone's laugh, but I ignore it. How can the possibly be laughing at this? And then I remind  
myself that this is a simulation. I am her trainer, not her friend, not her—

I shake my head and watch as she _really_ starts to panic now. "Help! Please! Please help!" She  
screams, slapping and hitting the glass, but it's no use. She looks at the crowd, the water up to  
her chest now, and she suddenly stops screaming. She breathes slowly now, taking in as much air  
as she can as she floats with the water, her head bumping with the ceiling.

Is she really going to commit suicide on a simulation?

She tilts her face up and, pressing her lips to the glass above her, sucks in the remaining air before  
the water swallows her. I can see how much she tries not to panic, but even she knows it's no use  
now. She starts smacking and kicking the glass again and even opens her mouth and screams, but  
no one seems to care. I hear a noise behind me, and I turn around to see Tris shaking uncontrollably.  
Starting to worry, I turn my head back to the screen.

She screams again, and when she slams her palms into the glass, something cracks. I knit my  
eyebrows as she slams her other hand next to the first, and the crack in the glass grows larger,  
starting from her pal and moving upward, as if they were an extension of her fingers. She kicks the  
glass once more, and there is a loud, low groan before the tank bursts open and she falls forward.

I turn around, amazed and suspicious and, I admit, a little afraid, and I stand next to her after taking  
all the wires off. She gasps and shakes her hands, gulping and breathing air as if there will be no  
more.

This reminds me too much of my own simulation, my trainer looking down at me as I burst out of the  
small box that held me captive.

I look down at her, and she looks up at me.

"What?" she asks. A strange anger starts rising inside of me. That and an answer to my question,  
the one that has been on my mind so long.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Crack the glass."

"I don't know."

I offer her my hand for her to stand up, and I feel a strange tingling when her palm joins mine;  
but I urge the feeling away. I need an answer.

I take her by the elbow and lead her, half dragging her, out of the room. We are halfway down the  
hallway when she stops and looks up at me.

"What?" she asks.

I breathe in. "You're Divergent." I see her eyes widen a little, and that's all I need. She is Divergent.  
_Just like me,_ I think. She hesitates a little before leaning her shoulder against the wall and asking,  
as casually as possible, "What's Divergent?"

"Don't play stupid," I reply, the anger now rising up. "I suspected it last time, but this time it's  
obvious. You manipulated the simulation; you're Divergent. I'll delete the footage, but unless you  
want to wind up dead at the bottom of the chasm, you'll figure out how to hide it during the  
simulations! Now, if you'll excuse me."

I turn and walk back to the room, slamming the door behind me before placing my back against  
the door.

_I knew it_, I told myself as I walk down to my room.

Now that I know that Tris is Divergent, I feel more protective over her, as if it were my duty to not  
let her be caught, as if I'm supposed to guide her out of the dangers of being Divergent. _And,  
of course, now we definitely share something in common._

_Shut up, _I tell myself.

No, I have to let her guide herself, like I guided myself two years ago.

Though I think it is much too late for me to let her move on her own, not only because of how  
vulnerable she is, but also because I feel myself too much attracted, as if I can no longer let her go.


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N - Hi guys! I'm really, really sorry it's taken me so long to write this, but I've been really  
busy I'm really sorry to have kept y'all waiting, but the next chapter is finally here :) And thank  
you all for your amazing reviews, I swear they almost brought me to tears! I really appreciate how  
fondly you think of this story, and I hope to keep entretaining you with each chapter. I really  
hope you like this one; Enjoy!**

******I do not own anything from the Divergent Trilogy****

The simulations go on as they always have been, but there's something new, something that  
changed, every time it's Tris's turn. Either way, I force myself to ignore it_. You're her trainer_, I tell  
myself, _Be a man_.

It's been several days since I discovered Tris's Divergence, and every time I see her I can't help  
but to think of how alike we are. Both Abnegations gone wrong, Divergents.

Both in danger of being caught.

I tell myself that I should go on living life as I have for the past few years but, as I said, there's  
something that's changed, and now I can't seem to let the news slip between my fingers.

Today's simulation is the same as yesterday, someone holding Tris at gunpoint and forcing her to  
shoot her family. It reminds me too much of my own fear of hurting innocent people, and yet both  
fears are so different. I see Tris raise her head, ending my train of thought. I look down at her.

"I know the simulation isn't real," she says.

"You don't have to explain it to me," I say. "You love your family. You don't want to shoot them. Not  
the most unreasonable thing in the world."

"In the simulation is the only time I get to see them," She says.

It saddens me to see the sadness in her expression. She was raised by a family that loved her and  
cherished her, a family that really, well, _cared_. I add this to my imaginary list of differences between  
her and me.

"I miss them," she continues. "You ever just…miss your family?"

Her words bring back the face that still haunts me, the face that made my life as Tobias unbearable.  
My father. I can't help but to look down.

"No," I say after a while. "I don't. But that's unusual."

I watch as she stands up and walks over to the door. She places her hand on the doorknob, and  
stops. She then looks back at me, and I can't help but to hold her stare.

I feel myself losing a battle between my sanity and her eyes. And her eyes are winning.

I feel my face loosen with every second that passes. I search deep into her eyes, and watch as they  
form a silent question. I don't know why, but I think of her voice inside my head asking, _Are you like  
me?_

I try to tell my eyes to answer, to tell her, _Yes, I am like you, and you are not alone, _but I stop trying  
to form the words as she keeps looking at me. _Into_ me. I suddenly feel very naked.

And then she opens the door and exits.

With an exhale, I place my hand to my forehead and lean on the wall. I can't keep losing myself to  
her like this.

I scribble down the data that I collected from her fears and walk over to the door to let in the next,  
and finally last, initiate.

"Uriah," I call, and I watch him as he stands and makes his way over. He passes through the door,  
hands slightly shaking, and takes a seat. I prepare the machine like I have done for the past week  
and insert the serum in his neck shortly afterwards. He is still uneasy.

"Don't worry; remember it's not real," I tell him, just as I tell the others. He nods, but his nerves are  
never-changing. Finally, the serum starts to act, and I turn my attention back to the screen, pressing  
the button of my stopwatch to record the time.

Uriah stands in the middle of an empty field, surrounded by a vast nothing. He turns around, eyes wide  
and full of terror, and he starts running at a random direction, glancing all around him, taking in  
everything his eyes can take, even though it's not much.

After a while he stops, realizing that running will take him nowhere, even though he already _is_  
nowhere. He looks up at the sky, and endless panel of blue, unlike the gray that surrounds his feet,  
and as if he triggered something by just looking up, it starts to rain.

He shields his eyes, confused, since the sky still remains blue and endless, but it still pours. He takes  
his hand away from his eyes, and as soon as a drop lands near his eyes, he screams.

He starts frantically rubbing his eye, and I hear him whisper, "_Gasoline_?"

And I can somehow smell it now, not knowing how, but it is, in fact, gasoline. I feel my eyes widen as I  
predict the outcome of his simulation.

The rain of the flammable substance suddenly stops, and from a distance, a bright light approaches  
the spot where Uriah stands. He notices the light and squints to try and make out what it is. The bright  
figure, a sphere, keeps approaching at a faster pace now, and his eyes widen in fear as he  
realizes what it is. Fire.

Panicking, he starts to run, away from the spot where the ball of fire seems to have chosen to land,  
and he silently watches as the ball of fire gets closer. Closer.

Closer…

And then the world around him erupted in flames.

As soon as the flames touched the gasoline-covered pavement, the fire kept spreading and spreading,  
igniting a stronger flame with every drop of the gasoline it encountered. Uriah tries to run, but the  
flames were too fast for his steady feet. Soon after the flame landed, Uriah started igniting as well,  
first his feet, then his torso, and then the flames surrounded him completely.

And not even his screams were strong enough compared to the sound of the world burning.

The new ball of flame that engulfed Uriah moves quickly, his screams still ringing in my ears, even  
though I watch the simulation from a screen. I turn to look behind me, and Uriah's whole body is  
shaking, as if he were being overpowered by a series of spasms. I look back at the screen, and my  
chest fills with a strong need to help him, but it is not in my position.

Uriah still runs around frantically. _Just calm down_, I think, even though I know it would be hard to do  
so when your whole body burns. But, as if he can hear my thoughts, he stops, his screams ceasing  
as well. And then a sound I didn't imagine I would hear rumbles through the noise of the flames.  
Thunder.

I look up at the fake sky, and sure enough, an army of clouds suddenly blocks the blue of the endless  
sky.

And then it starts to rain.

The drops of water that drop out of the sky are endless, but after several heart beats, the flames  
begin to disappear. I can see Uriah now. He is on the ground, in fetal position, sucking in as much  
breaths as he can take, his body clean as it first was, as if the flames never touched him.

The rain overpowers the flames, and soon enough, the ground is flame-free.

The screen turns black, and behind me Uriah wakes up with a start, hyperventilating.

I sigh, and rub my eyes with my fingers. Another Divergent; has to be.

I stop the stopwatch and move over to his side, and he looks at me, his eyes full of fear and relief.

"That was good, Uriah," is the only thing I manage to say. He looks at me like I'm crazy, and opens  
his mouth as if to speak, but instead he buries his face in his hands. I place my hand on his shoulder.

"Uriah, I need you to answer truthfully. Are you Divergent?"

And at this he looks up, eyes wildly open, full of a new kind of fear.

"How do you know?" I hear him say.

"How else would you have the power to bring a rainstorm when the sky was _that_ blue," I say.  
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, just be careful with how you manage your simulations next time."

Uriah stays silent for a moment, and he nods before making his way to the door, still shaking.  
I take pad where I track each initiation, and in a new page I write Uriah's name, a description of  
the simulation, leaving out the part of the storm, and writing down the total time.

Four minutes.


End file.
